THE RIGHT TIME TO WRITE

Once I made the commitment to become a romance writer in the summer of 2003, I knew I had more than one story inside of me and I didn’t want to be just another writer. I wanted to be a damn good writer.  With all the responsibilities on my plate, then and now, I had to figure out when was the right time to get those stories from point A to point B.  

I soon discovered it wasn’t between the two hours after I’d made the cattle call to four kids and a husband that it’s time to get up while trying to whip out breakfast.  There was too much hustle and bustle going on.  How could I possibly write a scene when I was constantly going up and down the stairs to make certain the kids put on matching socks and cleaned underwear?  Well, at least my thirty minute workout session is over. On my fifth trip downstairs, my ear drum feels like it will split in two as my husband bellows from the shower stall that he’ll e-mail me his schedule from work. 

The pounding at my temples, indicating a headache is only moments away stops me dead in my tracks.  “Why can’t you tell be before you leave?” I yell back, trying to understand his muffled explanation that’s drowned out from the water running at full blast from the showerhead.

There’s graveyard silence for about fifteen minutes. Maybe… just maybe I can hammer out that scene that flashed through my head when I first woke up. I head straight to my home office and boot up my laptop. However, hope fades as I search for my stripped shirt and whistle and head back downstairs at the speed of light.  A fight just broke out between two kids, although I’m not sure which two and I’ve got to switch gears from writer to referrer before they kill each other. 

Grrrr!!!

Aaah, peace and quiet!!  It’s eight-thirty and I’m home again.  Settling at my desk, I roll up my sleeves and smile. Okay, here’s my writing plan for the day: write a couple of hours, dial into my eleven o’clock teleconference, then write another hour and a half before heading out the door to hear the two-thirty school bell.
 
The insistent ringing of the phone pulls me back to reality. For the next hour I listen to one of my clients explain why they need to move up the deadline date of their project. 
God, will the madness ever end??

Stumbling down the stairs, I grope in semi-darkness for my best friend, the coffeepot.  The illuminated numbers indicate one o’clock in the morning.  The duties of maid, cook, chauffer, doctor, business owner and referrer have ended. 

It’s the right time to write!!

Until next time – stay well and be blessed,
LaConnie
www.laconnietaylorjones.com