Look it in the Eye

I've been taking a course in magazine writing. I already write for myself. I also blog professionally for another company and write articles for them. I also do editing work, when it comes around. Magazine writing seemed like a good spin-off to me. I'd like to do articles that are different. I like the variety.

I've thought about longer projects, but with small people underfoot and limited time, it seems pointless. The small people will grow and go to school more. There's time in the future. But for now I need to write more and feed my brain and my soul.

Writing can be a hard endeavour. It means looking yourself in the eye and finding something you are truly invested in to write about. Then knowing people will tear you apart for it or love you for it. Rarely an in between. It also means carving out time and brain space for it.

The other day I had an explosion of thought about carving out brain space (and not a good one). It seems every time I sit to read, think, or write, someone wants to talk to me or needs a drink or is unhappy or joyous about something. All of these things make my world go around. My family is, after all, the center of my being these days...in ways I would never have expected before my kids came along. And yet they sometimes crowd me out.

I am important too. Without the me part, I cannot write and earn a living.

I bemoaned all of this -- letting it go into space and releasing it from being trapped in my head and taking up room -- to Ray yesterday afternoon. I told him it felt like working against the tide of my family and at this point, it seemed, well, pointless. I wondered aloud if I ought to just set all of this aside for 2 or 3 more years. Until the wee people had gone to school and left me with a bit of time to chomp on and mull over thoughts.

It's all just talk though. And letting go. For that moment.

This morning I wrote a query letter. The first of many. And I take steps toward writing in a new way.

I'm excited and my brain is already thinking and plotting. It's what keeps me going through the mountain of things between my fingers and my keyboard.