Accountability

I'm constantly talking to Abby about accountability.  She has certain things that she needs to do:  homework needs to be done before she can go outside to play; she needs to come home when the streetlights come on; she needs to take her laundry downstairs on Saturday morning before the TV gets turned on; her bed needs to be made every morning.  If these things don't get done, there are consequences, which usually involves taking away her read time before bed.  This is quite possibly the worst punishment that I can bestow on her.  You would think that I had just blinded her and told her she's moving to a Third World country to live out her days digging toilet trenches.

My point is that she is accountable to me and her Dad, although he's abides by more of a "live and let live" philosophy and I'm more of the "live and let (everyone) live (just like I tell them to)" philosophy.  When it comes to my writing, I am accountable to...well, me.  And I can always find something else to do, not necessarily more important, just something else (read: laundry, dishes, toilet scrubbing, day-dreaming, solving complex equations).  Why is it that right now I have decided that I need to write?  This is shaping up to be the busiest time in my life, what with two kids and working full-time and keeping my house semi-non-disgusting and maintaining some sort of relationship with my husband that involves conversations about more than our son's daily poop.  Why the need to do this now?   It's not even a need, really, it's more of an urge.  In the same way I feel that if I don't read at least one thing a day - magazine article, someone's blog, a couple of pages in whatever is sitting on my nightstand - I feel like my day has been a failure, I'm starting to feel that way about writing.

I am trying to figure out how to get some accountability into my writing life.  This is, after all, what I spent 4 years of my life aspiring to do...okay, if I'm being honest, I actually aspired to write a really good (#1 on the NYTimes Best Seller List, can't keep it stocked at B&N or at Amazon) book, go on a book tour, chat it up in Chicago with Lady O, have a movie made of said really good book and retire in the lap of luxury living of off royalties and guest appearances and teaching the occasional class at Oxford.  Where is Oxford, by the way?  I should probably find out before I go there.

But first I suppose I should get my random post-it notes and half-filled notebooks together and make a list of what short stories/poems/memoirs I actually have half-started that will be worth my time to fully finish.  Stay tuned for what will probably prove to be another interesting adventure.

I'm constantly talking to Abby about accountability.  She has certain things that she needs to do:  homework needs to be done before she can go outside to play; she needs to come home when the streetlights come on; she needs to take her laundry downstairs on Saturday morning before the TV gets turned on; her bed needs to be made every morning.  If these things don't get done, there are consequences, which usually involves taking away her read time before bed.  This is quite possibly the worst punishment that I can bestow on her.  You would think that I had just blinded her and told her she's moving to a Third World country to live out her days digging toilet trenches.

My point is that she is accountable to me and her Dad, although he's abides by more of a "live and let live" philosophy and I'm more of the "live and let (everyone) live (just like I tell them to)" philosophy.  When it comes to my writing, I am accountable to...well, me.  And I can always find something else to do, not necessarily more important, just something else (read: laundry, dishes, toilet scrubbing, day-dreaming, solving complex equations).  Why is it that right now I have decided that I need to write?  This is shaping up to be the busiest time in my life, what with two kids and working full-time and keeping my house semi-non-disgusting and maintaining some sort of relationship with my husband that involves conversations about more than our son's daily poop.  Why the need to do this now?   It's not even a need, really, it's more of an urge.  In the same way I feel that if I don't read at least one thing a day - magazine article, someone's blog, a couple of pages in whatever is sitting on my nightstand - I feel like my day has been a failure, I'm starting to feel that way about writing.

I am trying to figure out how to get some accountability into my writing life.  This is, after all, what I spent 4 years of my life aspiring to do...okay, if I'm being honest, I actually aspired to write a really good (#1 on the NYTimes Best Seller List, can't keep it stocked at B&N or at Amazon) book, go on a book tour, chat it up in Chicago with Lady O, have a movie made of said really good book and retire in the lap of luxury living of off royalties and guest appearances and teaching the occasional class at Oxford.  Where is Oxford, by the way?  I should probably find out before I go there.

But first I suppose I should get my random post-it notes and half-filled notebooks together and make a list of what short stories/poems/memoirs I actually have half-started that will be worth my time to fully finish.  Stay tuned for what will probably prove to be another interesting adventure.