No, Jaysen, I don’t mean the vacancy between my ears…
My lovely cousin from Ireland is visiting, has been here about a week. She goes home Tuesday, and shortly after that a dear horsey friend from Kansas is coming for several days. Then we are into Thanksgiving and at least one progeny will be returning home.
I am teeth-wateringly itchy to start on my next book. Still in the research phase, but since this is the one I dumped into a box ten years ago with three chapters written, I could actually be putting words on paper. But if anyone else is in the house, I cannot write (with the exception of my sainted husband, the Hound from Hell and the bunny muse). (Actually when the kids were coming up I did manage to complete a couple of novels and they were godawful, but now their adult presence makes it a no-go). I think of Jane Austen scribbling away at her kitchen table surrounded by her family–I think it was Austen, anyway–and I feel utterly inferior and incapacitated. Not to mention irritated as hell and gritting my teeth until all these extraneous personages clear out of my house.
It has nothing to do with being able to wander around naked chatting to myself, either, vic-k. So there.
Sometimes yes, sometimes no… I guess it depends on how much the kids are fighting.
I can understand the desire for contemplative space within one’s own home. It can be hard to get going without it sometimes.
But then, I’ve also acheived high levels of output sitting at the bar of a noisy pub with a beer and plate of fries (or chips, if that’s the term of your preference). I did major work on my first novel between runs as a pizza delivery guy as well.
So I think this all means I have no idea what makes me tick.
Public libraries often have wireless access and quiet nooks for writing. In a small town, however, nearly everyone you know drops by. We were in Spring Lake, NJ a few weeks ago. The public library there was a handsome building.
Don’t feel inferior or incapacitated! You’re just distracted. While you have visitors in the house, you’re probably so busy fulfilling the role of hostess and/or mother that you’ve little time or energy for writing. Jane Austen was just better than most of us at blocking everybody else out.
After my gb surgery my inlaws are going to stay for a week to take care of the kids. This is great for them, but rather than freeing me up is more likely to become even more oppressive!
They mean well, but I can’t even sleep in my own bed when they are here normally. They declare that this time they are going to sleep in the loft bed, but that will mean they are in my office. That space is actually more sacred than my own bedroom, and I’d rather put up with climbing up the loftbed ladder and the pain that have them in my thinking room.
Oh, Pink, I know exactly what you mean. I get the heebiee-jeebies when people come into my office–the hair literally stands on end on the back of my neck. Can’t they stay in a nearby b&b–or do they need to be there early to help get the kids out to school? I would think with you recovering your own comfort would be paramount.
Aha–I have a brilliant idea! YOU go stay in a nice b&b and leave them all to fend for themselves. Surely the ensuing damage couldn’t be that irreversible.
No, she is an american mongrel. No one has cared enough to look back in time though …
I think it is has more to do with her possessing two X chromosomes. The universal nature of this trait seems to suggest that the Y chromosome lacks something.
I’m often in the same boat. My mother lives 2600 miles away, so when she comes to visit she stays for 3+ weeks to make it “worth her while.” She visits at least 2-3 times a year, usually during the worst possible time for us (such as November, during NaNoWriMo). And I get absolutely nothing done during that time. She insists she’ll stay out of the way, but it never quite works that way. And I spend most of the visit refereeing because she drives the kids nuts with her nagging and interfering. My husband is better with her, but I think that’s because he escapes to work every day.
This year, extended family events necessitated her visiting in October, so I get a reprieve this month (yay, NaNoWriMo!). But she’ll be back…
Sounds like my first year in law school, when I (ulp!) moved back home with my parents. Let’s just put it this way: My grades improved when I got an apartment with another law student.
Let’s just put it this way: My grades improved when I got an apartment with another law student.