I'm a television junkie, who in what I choose to watch, oftentimes finds strength and confidence. My choices run in cycles. I can be hooked on re-runs of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Charmed, only to grow restless for something different. There's been cycles with the Big Bang Theory or MASH and recently Gilmore Girls. Always choosing shows that have a personal connection, whether it was to a storyline or to a character.
My cycle now is an attachment to shows in which the female lead is struggling through a life event or doggedly pursuing a life's goal. As much as I watched Gilmore Girls, I came to realize that I didn't need every episode to satisfy this weird need. Just a handful of episodes held personal meaning for me. Right now, storylines about Lorelei buying and running her very own country inn, in both the original and the reboot, grab my attention and hold on tightly.
I've re-watched the fourth season as if it were my blue print for becoming a successful author. I cry when Lorelei cries, or cheer her on as though I'm unaware of the outcome. In that experience, I gain an odd sense of strength and confidence.
Grace and Frankie. Though I'm considerably younger than any of the main characters, and have nothing in common with them, I'm drawn to them and their struggles. It's a familiar theme of surviving a difficult change in life; trying desperately to pick oneself up off the ground and move forward. I'm not divorced and/or in my 70s but I do understand how difficult it is to discover yourself and how to achieve a dream. This hilarious show, and even funnier season, I can't stop watching the emotional roller coaster that comes with starting their own business. Yeah even selling vibrators come with unique challenges.
Choking back the tears, Grace and Frankie fight for their demographic, for their product with doubt and confidence at the same time. With each step they take forward, I can almost touch their goals too.
I'm tired. I took a full-time job to pay for the marketing to try to sell my books. I come home, take care of the children, the bills, groceries, dishes and take care of the other commitments that come with living in the real world. It makes me no different from other moms. I'm not claiming I am. And this isn't about how my life may or may not suck.
It's about my second job. The one I've been working at for the last four years. The one I'm not getting paid for, the one that takes me away from friends, commitments, children, relaxing. Again, it's not a mom thing. I've been an unpaid mom for sixteen years. No, this is about the dream, the job I really want.
When people ask how I'm doing, I mostly say I'm okay, unless I'm really tired, really stressed and really needing a good writing session. And frankly I don't complain much about it because most people tell me, maybe if I'm that stressed, I should put the books away for a little while.
I'm tired of explaining myself to everyone. It's not a simple proposition to put the book down. It's like cutting off a limb. It's a part of me. When I'm not writing, it gnaws at me, crawls through my skin reminding me that there's something else I'd rather be doing. I almost waited too long to begin my journey and if I put it away for even just a week, I may out of habit never pick it up again. I can't do that.
Even as my world can sometimes crash around me as I struggle to get the laundry done, the groceries bought, the children taken care of, have a social life, I desperately reach for something to hold on to so that I don't drown in my daily life. My life saver is writing. When you want something badly enough and you can't shake it, you keep at it even when everything else is in danger of falling to pieces. It's my life line.
Never tell an aspiring writer to put it away for a little while. We have a story to tell, an emotion to release, a message to say. If we put it away for even a little while, it burns a hole in us and we're no longer being true to ourselves. .
One day maybe the non-writer will understand.