Can you still be a writer AND a mom?
I think most of you know I have this major dream of
becoming a writer. Sometimes I can even visualize myself as a published author.
This is how it plays out.... Supermom to my son Jackson by day, writing and
living out my dream by night AND being able to provide for the three of us. I
don't want to give myself false hope, but that is what I see. Yet sometimes
things don't always happen as quickly as we'd like them too or at all like we
planned them. And we have to keep trying until maybe...just maybe... one day
that new door of exciting opportunity will open for us.
Yes, oh, yes...it's easier to give up on all those
personal goals and dreams than keep fighting for them sometimes. Okay, a LOT of
times. But those who keep at it and keep believing are usually the ones who
grow and make it.
Back in 2010, I wrote my first novel and then in 2011
started to query it out to agents. I had a lot of bites, but no offers of
representation. What I did get was a lot of great feedback from agents and
learned a lot about my writing and the ins and outs of the publishing industry.
In short, it's very subjective out there. Currently I have a few requests out
to read my first 100 pages of my manuscript (yay!) but am also in the midst of
revising from all the feedback I have received.
The problem I'm dealing with is finding time. I work full
time. I have a five month old. I'm a wife. I am the keeper of our finances and
house and nutrition....OK...pretty much everything. So how does one still
follow her dream, not lose sight of oneself and all those big goals, AND still
be a good mom and wife?
I don't want to lose myself! I'm deathly scared I am and
sometimes I cry because I grieve the old Christie and the life I used to have.
Oh...all that time I used to have. Where did it go? And all that control... buh
bye.
While writing my first book, I joined a critique group.
This group is full of wonderful woman - with all different backgrounds. Some
are just getting married, one lives in Brazil, others are having babies and one
is a full-time mom of three kids. I can relate to her. She's quite the amazing
woman. She drinks coffee like water, sleeps little and powers through novel
after novel, even finding time to read too. I admire her so much and asked her
how she does it.
In honor of her latest book, Love Blossoms, coming out
(which I was able to critique for her), she wrote a guest post on my blog!!!
This is how awesome she is. She even makes time to leave a post for me. Wow.
Where on earth does she find the time, you ask???? Read below...
Writing Mommy-Style
Hi, Christie! First, let me thank you for inviting me
over to your blog. I’m super excited to be here. It’s been seven months since
my debut novella launched the new Honey Creek imprint at Turquoise Morning
Press. Now, I’m back with book two in my Seeds of Love series. I’m hooked on
this enchanting little town and can’t keep myself away for long. But,
sometimes, life demands I leave the books alone. A mommy’s life is like that.
 |
| The fabulous Julie - author (and mommy) of Seeds of Love Series |
My youngest child is four now. She was a tiny little thing when
I started writing. She was waking a few times a night and nursing every time I
turned around. I had a potty training son at the time and was starting my first
year as a home schooling mom for my five year old. Times were crazy. Time was
nutty nuts wrapped in nougat. And I discovered writing helped me feel sane in
the midst of it all.
Four years have passed since that time. I’m still out of shape
and caffeine addicted. (Some things didn’t change). But, I’m still in survival
mode. Today’s format is just different. It’s still a circus over here. Things
get easier, but more complicated. I get more sleep and I’m done changing
diapers, but my kids need more things than they used to. Rides to ball games
and gifts for friends’ parties. Homework help replaced potty training, and dating
advice will soon replace that too. I’m glad to have something just for me, even
if I don’t get as much time as I want to do it today. Words makes me happy. I
try to find time to read and write when I can because it’s my escape. Thanks to
the Kindle, I learned to read on the treadmill. Multi-tasking at its finest.
And it makes me a nicer person. Trust me. My love of writing will be here when
they’re gone.
I think having an escape is the key to semi-sanity. And really,
semi-sanity is what I aspire to these days. Sadly, as my kids grow, they need
me less and less. *sniffles* And one day my house will be spotless because I
will be alone all day, wishing the house was still cluttered with kids and
their friends eating chips on my couch and wearing shoes on my carpet. But
that’s then, and this is now. Today, I’m trying really hard to embrace the now
because too soon I know it will be gone.
About Julie:
Mother of three, wife to a sane person and Ring Master at the
Lindsey Circus. Most days you'll find me online, amped up on caffeine &
wielding a book.
You can find my blogging about the writer life at Musings from the Slush Pile
Tweeting my crazy at @JulieALindsey
Reading to soothe my obsession on GoodReads
And other books by me on Amazon
Jillian thought she had everything she needed until Jackson
walked through her door…
There’s a wedding coming to Honey Creek and the whole town’s
preparing for the party. When Jillian Parker agreed to host a few groomsmen at
her inn, she had no idea what she was getting into. One of those groomsmen is
Jackson Tate, and he’s making her concentration completely impossible. He’s
funny, fascinating, frustrating, and leaving in a week. Jillian does not have
time for that level of distraction. With Jackson nearby, events to coordinate,
a bride to please, and an ex-fiancé to dodge, her peaceful life’s getting crazy
fast. With any luck, she’ll survive the week and put the whole thing behind her
as soon as possible.
…But not if Jackson has anything to say about it.
Excerpt:
“You used to cause quite a
stir,” Jackson said into Jillian’s ear. “I bet you haven’t danced since you
came home.”
Jillian smiled the demure smile
she’d perfected long ago and slipped out into the night beside Danielle. A
laugh split her friend’s face, and Danielle hollered into the night sky. Watermelon Crawl boomed
from the truck speakers. An outrageous smile spread across Jillian’s face until
her cheeks ached. Memories flooded over her, and she was instantly 10 years
younger. Her muscles tingled, and the steps came back like a reflex to the
sound of her friends’ laughter and the sight of embers floating in the night sky.
Her skirt swung left and right
along with her toe. Material caught her thighs and infused her with energy.
Beth’s squeal blasted out of the kitchen door, and she nearly took Jillian down
dashing onto the dirt beside her.
“Wooooo!”
Nothing mattered. How could
anything matter?
The small troop of dancers
stomped and turned in the firelight. Fireflies and golden embers floated and
blinked against the deep navy blue sky. No walls contained them; no neighbors
complained about the noise; no traffic sounds interrupted the cricket and
bullfrog chorus. There was no more freedom on earth than she had right there. A
round of clapping went up as the bodies slowed and ambled in place, laughing
and congratulating one another. They still had it.
Giggles seasoned the air, and
the music changed smoothly to another lifelong favorite. Fishin’in the Dark .
She thought of all the groomsmen planning to night fish before Mrs. Prattle’s
punch kicked in the night before. In a flash, men and women sided up ready to
twirl and swing in pairs. For a moment, Jillian stepped back to watch the
couples, but a massive shadow blocked the light from the fire. Jackson hitched
an eyebrow and nodded her way.
In the space of a heartbeat,
the group was in motion, and so was she.
“You haven’t lost it, I
suppose,” he said as their bodies came together.
She made the most of the time
they were apart, enjoying his audience, strutting her stuff. When they met
again she said, “You’ve noticed.”
“Honey, every man in town’s
noticed.”
The couples began to swing, but
Jillian found her body airborne. Like a feather in the wind, her feet swung
left then right of Jackson’s hips. Clapping and hooting
ensued. No sooner was she grounded again than she began to
twirl. The rush of endorphins and joy shot up from her feet to her hair, and
her heart threatened to fly her to the moon.
