Balancing Act

I needed something to catapult my motivation to write. I kept finding a way to let real life get in the way of sitting down and writing. All these excuses for my own poorly managed time.

Someone then mentioned to me this little thing called NaNoWriMo. National Novel Writing Month. The idea was to write a good chunk of a novel (50,000 words) in a month.

I've never been someone who works on quantity, but at the same time, I can see the potential.

So I signed up. Knowing this wasn't going to follow my normal writing style, I put my ideas to the way-side and came up with a different story I wanted to write.

I diligently sat down on the 1st of November and started to write. I produced a good few thousand words of pure prose. It was rough as guts but I had the start of the story forming in front of me. I kept this up for several days, consciously having to tell myself NOT to look back. I am my own worst enemy and want to edit things I have written. This in itself isn't a bad thing, but it makes the goal of reaching the end of the written story more daunting.

As the days went by, my word count rose. My story started to unfold before me. I was dedicating time to my writing. I was getting inspired.

Half way through the month I had just over 20,000 words written. I could not believe it. Slightly behind in my word count, I still felt the goal of 50,000 words was reachable.

Then disaster struck. My son became sick. Sick enough that at one point we were at the ER screaming for help. My story was forgotten. My writing neglected. My son was my only focus.

He remained sick up until - well - today actually. Real life took a hold with vengeance.

It made me realise some things.

I wasn't going to reach the 50,000 words required for NaNoWriMo. I don't actually care about that.

Real life is unpredictable. As much as we like to think we have a routine, things happen around us all the time to break that. The reality of writing every day is not achievable for me at this point in my life. I may have help, but I am also a mum with a young family. My family needs me to be flexible enough to be there and be focussed.

Writing as a mum is achievable. I know others do this, but I didn't know how. I had the scales all wrong. NaNoWriMo showed me that I can write, even if it isn't with daily regularity and still achieve some things.

Word counts aren't everything, but writing with the sole purpose of reaching the end of the story is not a bad way to look at things as a writer. I've gotten further through my story in 20,000 odd words than any of my other writing projects. It isn't the most cleanly written prose I've ever done. It will need a lot of editing and re-writing. However the story is developing strongly, and the characters are vivid.

I have found a way to look at my writing and achieve balance in my life.

Assuming my son stays well (and that isn't a given unfortunately), I've decided to continue towards the goal of 50,000 + words regardless of the timeframe. I won't achieve that by the end of November, but I am going to try to stay organised enough to write regularly and inch myself closer to that goal and beyond that to the end of the story. I am setting myself a few hours a week spread over a couple of days with the odd Saturday or Sunday thrown in to do my writing.

I didn't "win" NaNoWriMo, but I have learned a lot from the process. So in my own way, in my own eyes, I am my own winner. I've discovered things about myself and my writing that will help me move forward. Hopefully away from the blankness of my writers block and forward to the completion of this story. Then editing...

Forward with balance. Lets see how I go.

Finding The Words

How do we find the right words to write what we want to say? 

This is a constant in the back of my mind, particularly at the moment as I deal with a number of things in my life. Right now, the words don't flow for me. They don't flow for my own thoughts, nor do they flow in my writing of fiction. I feel like I have lost a part of myself - I have always loved my words. For now, they desert me. 

Part of it is medical. I have a condition that has affected a part of my brain. My brain thinks what I want to convey, but my mouth and hands can't seem to say the same thing. However, that is not my only problem, and the truth is I feel my motivation has (for the moment at least) gone. The proverbial brick wall is directly in front of me, and I am banging my head against it daily. My muse has gone on holiday. My inspiration seems to have gotten lost. 

Writers Block. 

It has enveloped me in a way that makes me wonder if I can find my way back to my writing. It makes me doubt myself. It makes me question my ability. It makes me worry I am trying to hard. It has stopped me writing. I could blame the circumstances in my life for my lack of writing, but that would be making excuses for the rut I find myself in. 

I need to want to write again. The challenge for me at the moment is to find a way to break down the walls, reinvigorate my muse and rediscover my motivation. Looking at that last sentence, it all seems so easy. So why isn't it?

Read to Write

I am a firm believer that in order to be able to write, you have to read. 

At the moment, I am broadening my horizons and focussing on reading, reading, reading. I used to have a narrow set of authors and genre I would read. For the last year, I have been widening my reading spectrum to authors and genres I never would have even taken a first glance at before. As someone who wants to write, it is an interesting journey to see how authors work across a wide range of topics. It is curious to see how authors engage their readers with their writing style, plot and structure. It is invaluable to see how others translate the ideas from their heads into something on paper (albeit edited and modified with external influence). In some cases, it is even amusing to wonder how an author got published... 

I am currently reading 'The Pillars of the Earth' by Ken Follett. I know it is an 'oldie', but who would have thought I would enjoy reading a story about the construction of a cathedral. I got this book on the recommendation of a dear friend (who is an extreme reading enthusiast ), but I was skeptical. Only a chapter into the book, I was captivated. This is what writing is all about. 

Engaging the reader into the world you are weaving right from the word go. This is what I want to achieve one day... I hope. 

Some might say reading is not productive. I beg to differ. I am learning invaluable lessons and skills from the books I read which I can keep in mind while I write. My ability to write (thanks to the demands of children) is intermittent at best for the moment. I like to write undisturbed. A book, I can pick up, grab 5 minutes of, and put back down. 

Writing for me is a focussed process. 5 minutes isn't enough, 15 minutes isn't enough. It's one of my quirks. To make up for the lack of time to write, I therefore read. 

Beginnings

 They have to start somewhere. You could say mine starts now, with this post, the first on this blog. However, this is a new beginning to a story that ignited almost two decades ago. 

I love to write. I always have. 

Real life stands in the way of this. 

I intend to try and find a balance. 

I haven't written in years, and what I see before me when I get a sliver of a chance to write at the moment, looks rusty.

I juggle being a full time mum, in a country that can be unforgiving. Time to myself is rare and precious, with emphasis on the word RARE. 

Still, I write. I will keep writing. Not much, and hardly frequently, but I WILL write.

The stories in my head want to be told, and I will do my best to pry them from my somewhat incompetent mind. 

I don't expect this blog to be updated with any frequency, but hopefully it is a beginning of a more serious journey down a path of writing discovery. 

Can I write? Perhaps, dear reader, you will decide that. 

Perhaps, dear reader, you will get a glimpse into my writing here.