I’m sitting here listening to my dryer squeak and my dishwasher swoosh and wondering when, exactly, I got so domestic. I mean, it’s only 7:14 and I’m in full Carol Brady mode (or maybe I should say Alice from Brady Bunch mode). Do you ever feel like your day is like a sprint? The gun goes off at six am, and the rest of the day I am just trying to keep pace. Somehow, I need to figure out how to make my day more like a marathon, that slow, steady thing. As Dr. Phil would say, “How’s that working out for you?” Well….so far, not so much. But I will keep trying.
Personally, though, I’m not the marathon type. I am surrounded, however, by serious runners: my husband completed a marathon a few years back, and he and my friend Dana are doing a half marathon this winter. My friend Courtney is in a running club, we have other friends that are working up to their own marathon. Meanwhile, I’m on the treadmill three days a week, doing my two miles or so, and finding it hard to imagine how in the world I’d EVER go on for another 24.2. Maybe it’s because of writing, actually, that I am okay with this. I learned a long time ago that writing is not a perfect science. Everyone has their own rhythm, their own way of doing it. Some people can crank out good books quickly and efficiently: others, like me, take longer and stumble and backtrack and agonize but reach the same finish line, eventually. What matters, I find, in writing and running and life in general, is that you just keep going. Some days, that is all you CAN do.
Like, say, yesterday, when my daughter was sick and clingy and refusing to leave my side, and I REALLY needed to write, so I ended up with her and my babysitter Amanda, all of us sitting on the bed where I work (office is still in progress, sigh). They were reading A Pocket for Corduroy and I was trying to finish off a chapter. It was crazy and distracting and necessary, and all I could think was, “I bet Stephen King doesn’t write like this.” But that’s the thing: I do. Or at least, I did yesterday. I got about a paragraph done, total, but at least that’s one more than I had the day before. It might sound like I’m lowering the bar to dangerous levels. But really, I’m just moving forward, even if it is just incrementally.
Okay, so THAT was not the entry I intended to write today. I was going to keep it fluffy and all pop-culture like. Whoops. Oh, well. I promise to return on Friday with total fluff for you. Oh, and a reminder about my reading in DC on Friday afternoon, at 4:30 at Politics and Prose, and talk of the new Glee tonight, and, and…..I don’t even know what else. I guess we’ll find out when we get there.