My head is full of lyre-backed chairs and the glint of sun far, far in the north as a drakan prow surges, cracking ice, and on the problems of point-of-view and why can’t I find a decent synonym for trouble that means what I need it to mean? and no, no, not that character, no, go away images, I want that one to—
“Mom?”
—live, no maybe the images will change if I wait, and anyway I need to research early mattresses so that, oh yeah, but first remember to go back through to clarify that yin-thread about the song with the inverted fifth and its yang about how rumor metastasizes—
“Mom! Drive me to Brian’s house!”
“Oh. Okay. Sorry. My brain was—”
“Your brain is always—” Hand gesture to match mine.
“Sorry, kiddo, I’m trying hard as I can.” Open door, start car, sit at super long red light and oh, see, there are the lights hissing across the sky, reflections on the rain wet sails…
“Mom, what’s for dinner?”
“How about if I make tacos? Nothing that heats up the kitchen too bad.”
Biscuits! If they’re making pan-biscuits over the campfire when the…
When you are the stay-at-home parent, or when you are home with the kids if you do have a full-time job, there just isn’t that civilized office schedule, where you are in your cube for four hours, lunch break for an hour, cube for four hours. Regularly scheduled meetings that everyone is there for, and you don’t have to scrape gum off chairs, find everyone, get them bathed, find their missing socks, and get them to focus on the task at hand instead of their cell phone or the TV, and deal with fifty interruptions, every single one a crisis—for someone else. But you are the one who has to deal.
In short, unless you can afford a nanny, you are on the job pretty much 24/7 . . . yes, you get a break when the small ones sleep, though that’s when you usually fall exhausted into bed. And of course you have to get up if someone barfs, or wets the bed, or wakes up with a fever.
So how does the writer get any writing done when you have kids? The truth is, when children are very young, writing time just plain dips. The thing I tell writers just venturing into parenthood is that time doesn’t stop, however long those days of diapers and spit-up and keeping them from putting horrible things in their mouths seem to stretch; you blink and those rugrat years are gone, and the teen barely waves as they head out the door into the world.
But until then, what to do? So much depends on how many adults are on hand to help out, and also, what kind of a writing process you have. How I coped was accepting that my free time was going to be doled out in two and three and seven and a half minute increments, usually impossible to schedule. I got used to thinking about my next project as my hands were busy with laundrag and vacuuming. (I don’t recommend letting your mind shift to Over There when cooking, or you will end up with the same sorts of culinary disasters that I created.)
I kept a notebook with me at all times, so I could scribble down ideas as soon as I parked the car, while in the doctor’s waiting room with my feverish kid, while waiting for everybody to sit down and get things going at a school function, etc. My writing schedule during the years I taught full time began at four a.m. every day, because that was the only uninterrupted time I could get. I stopped at seven, when I had to turn into Mom and Teacher, and usually I didn’t get to put my writer hat on again until just before bed, when offspring slept and correcting was done.
That worked for me because I’m by nature a morning person. Some writer friends prefer to work late at night, when everyone else is watching the tube, or asleep.
When I actually began selling, I had deadlines, and because I was getting paid (eventually) it became easier to negotiate with my equally busy spouse for time. (Before he became a tenured professor, he was holding down five part time jobs all over Southern California, so he spent a great deal of time on the freeway.)
For many writers, before that first sale, writing is often regarded as a never-ending hobby, like a piece of knitting that will never be cast off, and that nobody is ever going to want as the months and even years slide by while one is toiling through the submission process.
Writers have often said to me, I definitely made sure that anyone I dated was okay with writing. She said, oh, how wonderful! He said, whoa, that’s cool! Writing, very often, is only cool when it doesn’t get into everyone else’s way. I had one friend whose spouse got angry because he wanted to steal away and write while his wife watched TV. She felt that TV-time was their only together time, and it was important for her that they watch together, because really, that writing was just never-ending, and it might be years before somebody actually bought it, and wouldn’t kayaking be more fun as a hobby? They could do it together!
I had another friend, a teacher, who discovered if she told her spouse that she was working on student papers, he either did the domestic chore himself or occupied his time in some other way, but if she said she was working on her novel, he had a list of things that needed her attention right now, and couldn’t she do that “later”? When people are in relationships, they discover that their time really isn’t their own. It’s wonderful when rhythms totally match, but for most of us, our days are a constant negotiation between ours and others’ priorities. When writing is high on our priority list and low on theirs, that’s when the friction can begin, causing great guilt because no one wants conflicts between the things and the people they love.
Writing is a solitary act, and its progress is not instantly measurable the way that building a canoe is, or knitting a sweater, or even taking a night course. Until one has gone pro and has deadlines, the payoff, unlike the canoe being put into the water or the sweater being worn or the course enabling one to try a new thing, seems to the non-writer as imaginary as the content of the novel.
Trying to get the non-writer to understand the importance of writing time for the writer can be tough. When I was young, the sense of isolation could be eroded into guilt for being “selfish”; one good thing about the Internet is that writers can find other writers, who understand the drive, the need, the love.
So back to writers and kids. How to manage both since as yet we can’t replicate? One way is the three—five—ten minute process that I described above. But some cannot deal with splintered bits of time. If your process requires sustained time, the suggestion I’ve found that works for many writers is to trade with your partner for “me” time, and get out of the house. If you’re home, it’s too easy to interrupt you. If you go to the library, or Starbucks, or to the park with your laptop or notebook, you’re out of reach, and psychologically you’re distant enough from home that you’ve a better chance of making your time productive.
Those are my suggestions. Anything else that others have discovered and would like to share would be most welcome!
Well, that’s why I’m single and don’t have any kids. Besides, I saw many promising writers stop writing completely when a partner or child started demanding their attention, which is just a pity IMO.
I’m a night person anyway, but I developed the habit of writing mainly by night when I was living with my parents, because night was the one time of the day when I was certain to be left alone and not bothered with “Since you’re at the computer anyway, couldn’t you just write this short email/fax for me” (mostly, it was the days before email) or have my mother come just to file some papers, pick up dirty dishes or laundry and by the way, had I heard what my aunt/uncle/cousin/whoever had said and done. Either that or the ever-present “What are you doing?”.
Though I also do the “writing whenever there’s a bit of free time” thing. I’ve written in or while waiting for public transport, in the car while waiting for my Mom to finish grocery shopping (she doesn’t drive anymore, so I take her shopping) or even in class, when all of my students are engaged in some exercise or other for once. Students can be almost as nosy as kids of one’s own BTW. Last week, the students were late for my class, because a fire had broken out across the street (and fires and fire engines are so much more exciting than English), and when they finally did show up, one walked right up to my desk, tried to peek at my writing (which is in English, so he can’t read it anyway) and asked, “What’s that? Are we doing that today?” I told him, “No, that’s something completely different. If you always do your math homework in my class, I can do something else on the side, too.”
Cora vs. Student 1:0 FTW!! *cheers from the teacher side*
Cora: I have several friends who’ve chosen to remain single, or childless, in favor of a career that is going to be a time-eater, and for many of the reasons you name.
Sometimes, though, people don’t discover they are writers until later–when they are already involved with a family, another career, or both! And some do want to have a family, yet keep on with their dreams.
I wrote when my kids napped and after they went to bed at night. I didn’t even try to get any serious writing done while they were awake. By the time I sold my first novel my kids were 7, 5 and 2, but within the next 18 months I managed to get my editorial revisions done and write the second book of my contract, because the first two were in school and the third was (hallelujah) quite a mellow child.
Now they’re all in school, so I have plenty of time during the day. Or so you would think, but it’s amazing how household chores eat into that.
I also worked early in the morning, when I was fresh and before anyone was awake. It was also, pre-sales, guilt free time — I mean nobody could expect me to be doing anything at 5am, 6am, for goodness sake! I got the idea from Rumer Godden’s autobiography where she mentions doing it. It worked very well for me. I taught my son that morning starts at 8.00 — which he used to call “Eight Oh Oh” — and before that if he was awake he could say “Good morning” once and then play quietly in his room. And that lasted for years, the time before 8.00 was writing time. At 8.00 he got up and had breakfast and the day began. When he went to highschool that started at 8.15 and he had to have an earlier morning start than 8.00 we were both furious.
I’ve never been able to work in snatches. Think while I’m doing chores, yes, but actual writing needs the perception of time in which I will not be interrupted.
Jo: It’s a big step when one can negotiate with one’s kids. “You give me this time, and I will give you this time.”
During those rugrat years, though, writing time can be a very rare commodity.
Heh. This post could not have come at a better time – I’ve been clawing the walls in frustration lately because the demands of homeschooling one child, hauling the other back and forth to basketball practice, and the general hustle of holidays has crunched my writing time to indistinguishable crumbs. I try writing late at night, after everyone else is asleep, but lately I’ve been so exhausted that my words just wander incoherently.
I carry a notebook around *everywhere* and have entire novels sketched out in it, but actually sitting down to write them is proving a long process. Luckily my husband is very supportive, and I am learning to be patient. I love my life and my family, so I’ll deal with the writing challenge as I can.
But it’s deeply reassuring to know I’m not the only one finding the balancing act tough!!
R.J. Ohhhh yes, about the household stuff.
Jennifer: the time will fly by. Though it doesn’t seem like it now. That notebook will get its chance to be mined!
All artists face this dilemma, and I think things have changed enough so that it’s now equally difficult for moms and dads. Also I think it’s hard for artists to be taken seriously if they don’t have any money to show for the time and effort.
Pilgrimsoul: very true.
Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts on this. My writing took a severe dip starting in college and through the small-children phase, but I can’t even blame it primarily on the children or spouse–it was more than I myself had thought I didn’t **want** to write in any “serious” (whatever that means) way, after seeing what my father and mother went through.
But even when I did get back to writing–when all but one child were teenagers–I could deeply appreciate the time-use issues and the criticism of selfishness. I too find that the very early hours are the best.
I love your notebook idea–I’ve only just recently taken to doing that, and it makes **such** a difference. Otherwise thoughts and ideas just evaporate
Writing was difficult for me when I was married. My spouse was demanding and I ended up giving it up almost entirely during the time I was married.
Once I was on my own, as a single parent, things were difficult, BUT after the first few years, when my kids and I got settled, I discovered that writing could become part of the time we spent together.
I worked fulltime and was parent full time. I love my kids and they deserved my time and support. So, I made writing a part of the time we spent together.
When they did their homework, they did so where I was writing. I was there if they needed me, and my writing was kind of an example to them to focus on their work. When they were finished and ready to read or watch TV, I wrote as my part of our activities together.
I learned to write on snatches of time, too. Breaks, lunch hours, while I waited for kids to finish after school activities.
Things still haven’t settled down even though my kids are older now. I still take them to university, take them to work, go to special events with them. I’m still the single parent, we still have one car, but what I fight with now is exhaustion, and not so much having demands made on my time.
I think, if you get into a routine that works, you can write with kids. I think the spousal demands are sometimes more difficult to work around. (Personal opinion.)
Writing in snatches of time can be interesting. Once, I did only outlines that way, lugging them about, but then I looked at my stack of unwritten outlines and concluded that something had to give. So I started lugging about folders where I could write scenes.
After a time I realized I should write out the stories from beginning to end, to keep the stories together. And to see whether writing longhand affected what is written.
I started using notecards when running errands with the girls because the kids thought my notebook was a drawing paper factory. Now, of course, I sometimes find Very Important Notes covered with cute mermaids and family portraits.
But I love it. It already makes me a bit nostalgic when I look at old hard-copy edits and see drawings on the backs of pages where L kept herself busy and quiet. The kids know that 8-12 is Mommy’s writing time, which they mostly respect, but everyone has bad days. Sometimes Lizzie needs to sit hip-to-hip with me and dress her dollies, and I’m okay with that. I keep thinking about your words…and it’s already gone so fast. Next year, the kids will be in school between 8 and 12!
I really, really love this entry and am bookmarking it for re-reading on the days when I’m stressed and tearing my hair out about this exact issue. Thank you!
Janice: that’s a great idea, homework and writing time together! (Though that’s for after those rugrat years.
)
Jennifer Gale: yes, there are always going to be days when something gives. Kid time is a strange thing: the day is so very long, yet minutes so fluid, and the clock is pretty much meaningless. “I need it now!” Ten minutes from now seems more like ten years.
Steph:
PS: Jennifer Gale: I have some old notebooks that I haven’t thrown away solely because one or other of my kids scrawled drawings or letters in them.
Asakiyume: notebooks can end up being interesting in themselves. (Though I’ve ended up throwing a lot of mine away, having reached that stage of my life when I am aware that my treasures will be other people’s trash to clean up once I’m gone.)
It’s interesting how being a writer can ebb and flow in our lives, and equally interesting how having writer parents can impact the children. My daughter called my writing workdone until she was about four, due to my attempts to negotiate for time: “If you play with your toys for a little while, while Mom gets some work done, we’ll go to the park.” She had no interest whatever in writing . . . until recently, the urge seems to be seeping into her creative life.
One thing I don’t see brought to the table often enough among writer couples–though sometimes economics preclude it–is the option of day care as a way to preserve writing time.
Because if the goal is to make writing a career, that’s as legitimate as using day care to help parents make time for any day job–or startup business or college classes (to shift the comparison to things that might not be earning an income yet).
Or if day care is too pricey, then maybe set number of hours of babysitting each week. Because one does these sorts of things, when balancing children and career, and writing is as legitimate a career goal as any other.
Janni – that’s exactly how we’re managing right now. 4 mornings a week, MrD goes to a childminder and Patrick and I write like the wind…because as soon as MrD comes back home, writing time is definitely OVER for the day. And on the other 3 days a week, we don’t even try to write, because trying (and, inevitably, failing) just leads to so much frustration. Better for all of us to just take those 3 days to parent full-on, with the grace of knowing that there are writing days coming up again soon. It’s really been a life-saver for us.
But there’s so much guilt associated with letting anyone else look after your young child that it’s a hard decision to make (and hard to talk about in public!), and I know it would be even harder, emotionally, if writing weren’t the only income paying our bills right now, so that it HAS to get done, no matter what.
Um. And just to make clear – MrD is only at the childminder’s during the mornings on those 4 days, for about 3 hours at a time, rather than being there all day.
And I feel silly for taking the time and space to clarify that, but Mom Guilt is an unstoppable force, and somehow, I am utterly convinced inside that if anyone in the entire world thinks I might have him in childcare for longer than absolutely necessary (by their personal standards), I will be burned at the stake (or ought to be).
Sigh.
Janni and Steph: yeah, frequently the problem is the cost. I sure never could afford it. I did trade care with someone for a while, when my first was small, but then the other woman got a job, and that ended.
We were so broke we were caught in that awful catch-22 “If you earn money you can get a sitter, but we can’t afford it until you do.” So the writing time had to wait for those two and four and a half minute slivers.
Janni – Yeah, the cost is prohibitive for us. When the kids were littler than now, I traded hours with my husband and, post-infancy, with other at-home moms. I’d have done it if we had the cash to pay a sitter!
Steph – I don’t look down on you! (I’m jealous
Sherwood – I’m trying to decide how to save some of the art-work…the note cards are easy, but some of the hard-copy drawings are wonderful(ish) illustrations, and it seems a shame to have them paired with Mommy’s horrific first-draft prose.
Weekday morning daycare for my almost 2-year old has been critical the last few months. I realized late this summer that the “writing 1 hour per day during naptime” schedule was not going to get the draft done by December!
Thanks for the post. It’s always so helpful and encouraging to see how other parents are managing, too.
Heather: a good daycare is a blessing–the kids get to begin on their socializing and on their learning.
Just…thank you for this entry and all the comments
As I type this, I have a clingy, teething baby strapped to my back (which is pretty much the only way I get housework done – he naps in a baby carrier while I do laundry, vacuum etc).
I’ve been struggling a lot with getting any writing done since he was born. I’ve managed to arrange for him to be watched for an hour or so a day so I can write, but by the time I actually sit down, I often find that I’m too damn exhausted to actually get any work done. Same goes for writing after he goes to sleep at night, and as for waking up before he does – that’s never going to happen for this writer!
The worst thing, as others have commented, is the damn guilt – even getting someone to watch my son so I can work makes me feel guilty. I wonder if it would be different if I was actively bringing in money with the writing…
Stephanie: the guilt can hit you even if you’re earning money, because then you worry that you’re missing precious time with your child. Our lives are negotiation with all the people and things we love most; one thing that might help is to remember that it takes a village to raise a child. In other words, having good people in the child’s life is no bad thing. It doesn’t have to be you all the time, that’s not necessarily healthy for either of you.
Another thing to remember is that each year is going to bring you more time, as the child gradually becomes more self-sufficient and interested in peers and in the world. It’s really those first three or four years when they depend on their adults for everything.
It is deeply, deeply heartening to me to hear parents and mothers especially talking about daycare as an option here. I get that it’s not always possible, but when it is, I think it needs to be brought to the table.
Otherwise, it comes across too much like–unlike any other job a mom has ever held–writing never gets to stake out its own time against childrearing.
It’s an uneasy compromise, to be sure. Any day-job-with-kids is.
But I never heard anyone say, “You need to run your accounting firm in 5 minute snatches until your kids start school, but that’s okay, they’re only young for a short while.” But I hear this about writing all the time–as if it weren’t really a job the way that accounting firm is, or worse, as if it somehow isn’t as legitimate for moms to make time for writing, even paying writing, in the same way it is for them to make time for that accounting firm.
It’s useful to see the other options brought out into the light a little!
Janni: the key is “paying”–I suspect if the accountant was doing it for free in hopes of maybe being paid in a year or two, possibly, if a client decided somewhere down the line, it would get the same treatment that writing does.
While I would not give up my kids for any amount of writing time, I sooooo live this every day.
When my youngest was a babe and my middle child coming home in the afternoon from school, the babe lay happily on the floor sleeping and playing with her baby gym or “talking” to her stuffed penguin. The middle daughter, loved murder mysteries and cold case files reality shows. I infected her with my fascination for forensics, alas. So, she’d come home flip on the TV and watch Murder She Wrote while I sat upstairs in my gallery office above the living room and allegedly wrote.
Inevitably, I’d find myself half-listening to the TV and the next thing I know my smart-ass demon is now named Jessica and spouting off about corporate jealousy in the middle of my urban fantasy.
I’ve written parts of people’s conversations into my work, dropped words from “Mom, I need to go to the library” (“That’s not a ghost, Asdeon-Mom, it’s a free-floating librarian.”) into tense scenes and scrambled after brilliant (brilliant, I tell you!) ideas that disappeared like rabbits down a hole.
I can also totally relate to the TV time thing. My husband does it. He bought the Avatar DVD and popped it in the other night. I sat down, pulled my Mac (“Castle”) into my lap and looked up to find him staring at me accusingly. “Aren’t you going to watch?”
“Yes, dear.”
I am also bookmarking this post. (For what it’s worth, it made me leave the computer to go out to hug my husband, who was washing the dishes, and thanking him for telling me that he wanted me to set a goal of at least five pages of fiction per week.)
Although Bug is taking up increasingly more time as she gets more mobile, I’ve been amazed at how much I’m still able to accomplish — especially since quitting the part-time job (because, like others, the childcare expense didn’t balance out). She has a very early bedtime and takes reasonable naps, but I’m finding that I probably should wake up at one of her early wake-up times to get more done before the day officially starts. Sadly, I’ve never been a morning person, and for that to work, I’d have to be in bed… now! *wanders away from the computer to sleep*
Maya: ahah, that might explain some truly gonzo scenes in some bookis!
Alana: your spouse is a sweetie!