There it is. October 8th, 2016. A gem.
Believe it or not, this post was the beginning of what would become a full feature-length memoir. What is still to become a full feature-length memoir.
She’s only a few pages away from a completed first draft, and only a few months away from a fully completed manuscript, but the clock doesn’t start ticking again until I dig’r out of the drawer.
Funnily enough, the day after I posted my last Way Back Wednesday, the one about priorities and never wanting to have to thank my family for putting up with my total abandonment whilst writing my book, a close friend asked me, “What are you going to DO with all your free time?”
You see, the numbers are thinning out considerably around here, and while I knew it was coming, it seemed to all drop out of the sky at once, just as I was looking the other way.
Last last weekend, the oldest kiddo in residence, Emily, had her official graduation par-tay, and that same weekend accepted a full-time job working with her big sister at Culver’s, so she’s about to be Not Around Much. Just like that. Poof.
The younger kiddo, Sarah, has been in public school for this her Sophomore year–for the first time–so was already out of the house a lot. But come Friday–yes, in TWO days–she’ll be off to a Semester School until the end of May. Conserve School is four hours from home. Four Hours. Have I mentioned this? She’ll really be Not Around Much.
And the one in between? Will? Well, he’s in school, too, and works weekends at the local cafe; he’s already a scarce commodity around home. Also, he was never homeschooled, and there is a bit of a different dynamic there.
And so it is that by Feb 3, when the Full Time Work commences for Em, I’ll be sitting on lotsa full days wherein I am Not On Call. What on earth?
Hence the question from my friend, Sara, and the blank stare that followed.
I think I sputtered.
How did this happen? Wasn’t I just saying how the time wasn’t right yet? I think I was. I’m sure I was. Oh, boy, here we go.
So today I contemplate all that free time that’s about to be hovering over the surface of the deep, and what I’m going to do with it.
Short answer (after the sputtering)?
I’m going to write.
Like, take-that-sh*#-outta-the-drawer-and-write-it, write.
I gotta be honest; it’s a little daunting, the thought that nearly NOW I’m going to have to start exercising that ever-elusive discipline gene and making writing the priority, at least during the boy’s hours gettin’ ed-u-cated and makin’ bank. I’ve had ready-made excuses for a long time now, and they’re handy, handy, handy.
And they’re also flying out the door in droves. Yikes.
Hold my feet to the fire, please,