Where do I begin — with the clothes piled in the hampers or the rewrite of a chapter that is swirling in my head?
I have been at an intensive week-long writing seminar and re-entry into the real world is difficult. I have spent the last five days focused on free writing. Our teacher, the fabulous Doug Goetsch, would give us a random topic or first line and then we wrote. No research or planning or outlines. Just writing. I wrote about things like opera singers, freckles, and Japanese mudslides. I wrote about skiing with my father, business innovations and toast. I worked on writing with passion and with indifference. I wrote aggressively and I wrote schmaltzy and I wrote with the clinical precision of a neurosurgeon.
My husband did a great job of taking care of the house and keeping track of the three teens that were at home. He fed everyone and walked the dog and processed the mail. But my chores are waiting for me. There is laundry and there is no milk in the fridge for the morning coffee. Well, there is milk, but it’s sour. And in honor of my arrival home the dog threw up on the living room chair and that needs to be dealt with.
The kids have to get ready to go back to school next week. There are new sneakers to buy and my son needs to pack for his trip to Mexico and my daughter doesn’t like her class schedule and I have to pick up a prescription at the drug store.
I gained insight into the minds of real writers and I received encouragement to keep working at my craft. But it will have to wait until the dust settles and I’ve vacuumed.