Stepford Writers

I am in awe of writers who actually cross things off their “To Do” list. Things like, you know, “write.” Life has a funny way of getting in the way of writing. To be fair, I have been pretty consistent with my “Lunch Hour Writing” time, but as far as anything more than that…not so much.

I have heard there are writers who are able to hold down a day job, be homeroom mom (or dad), carpool, run errands, have a clean house, cook meals, and keep up with their personal grooming, while still pecking out a couple thousand words every day! To be clear: this is not me. In fact, I am a bit skeptical about whether writers really do exist. Perhaps these Stepford Writers are like a mythological creatures which once had some small basis in reality but, actually, were pulled and tugged and contorted until they no longer resembled anything like the mere mortal writers that I know.

Truth be told, I prefer my writers with a few flaws. Maybe they swear like a sailor, or are frugal to a fault, or suffer from sensory overload and can’t think when there is too much noise around, or maybe they can’t carry a tune to save their life, or “forget” to dust, or have an over-active guilt complex. Oh, wait. That’s all me…well, the point is that flaws should bring us closer.

Or maybe my point was that it is hard to write and have a life, too. Especially if your life involves little people who rely on you. And maybe, just maybe, we have to cut ourselves a little slack as we push forward on our journey…and we should cut other people a little slack, too. The journey is hard enough as it is.

(Or maybe there is no point, but at least I wrote something today, so at least I don’t feel quite so guilty.)

Confession:

In case you wondered what I did this weekend instead of writing, here are a few of the things that occupied my time:

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Chased cat off the heating pad.
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Finally got the hot tub ready to use–after a mere eight months of procrastination! (P. S. there is a red light in the hot tub, it is not filled with blood–although that would make for a better story.)
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Reassured cat that the strange noise coming from the Keurig was not another cat hissing at him.
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Gave up and let the cat have the heating pad.

 

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4 thoughts on “Stepford Writers

  1. This post filled me with so much nodding appreciation and then hilarious glee. Thank you for that. And, of course, you’re right. We all have lives and things tugging at us every which way. I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who “forgets” to dust (or gives in to feline demands, for that matter). That hot tub looks amazing (blood or no), and no one could possibly resist (even Stepford writers), so clearly you can’t be held responsible for your actions when faced with a temptation like that.

    P. S. This comment means I have also written something today. Just what do you think you’re doing, inciting behavior like this?

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    • I agree and, frankly, these myths are ruining my self esteem even more than photo-shopped celebrity photos. Maybe I should write a post that shows the harsh reality of writing life, complete with sleep deprivation, writing on napkins, caffeine loading, writer guilt, mom guilt, and piles of unwashed laundry.

      I have managed to get in the hot tub once so far. Maybe I should use it as an writing incentive. As in: If I meet my weekly word count, I am allowed 30 minutes in the hot tub without children climbing all over me and screaming in my ear. Yes, we might be on to something here…

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