I still remember the moment it first dawned on me that all I really wanted was to string words together for a living. Suddenly everything made sense. Why my English teacher loved me, but my history teacher didn’t… why the library was the closest thing to heaven on earth for me… why song lyrics made me cry. Words. It was all about words.
Armed with this revelation, I expected life to rearrange itself so that I could do what I’d been created to do – write. To my horror, the dishes didn’t wash themselves, laundry continued to pile up and my family kept eyeing me hopefully at mealtimes. Then there was the small matter of earning enough to do my bit to support our growing brood.
I’ll admit I threw some spectacular tantrums. Why me? was a common theme. I knew many stay-at-home moms who didn’t have a thimble-full of the vision and passion that I had, yet they had time on their hands – the one thing I didn’t seem to have enough of.
So I did life. I raised my babies, with all the wiping and washing that comes with them. I went to work and reconciled accounts, laughed and cried with colleagues. I danced and dug in the garden. I ironed through mountains of laundry that would crush small countries if piled in a heap. I wrote in stolen pockets of time, cherished moments of word-weaving made all the more precious for their rarity.
Years down the line I can see a truth that I couldn’t before – my writing is richer because my life has been full. Nothing thrives in a vacuum, but word-seeds germinated in the rich soil of life experience grow tall and strong, effortlessly bearing the message intending for the reader’s heart.
So if you are facing the frustration of not being able to write full-time, take heart! The real life you live will seep into your words packing them with oomph and gusto to transport your reader.
Embrace your life and watch your writing soar!