In my forty years of life I have defined myself as: a daughter, granddaughter, Catholic, friend, student, reader, actress, pianist, best friend, teen-ager, geek, nerd, writer, journalist, editor, grown-up, girlfriend, wife, (and thus daughter-in-law and sister-in-law), graduate student, teacher, Instructor of English, Ph.D, Assistant Professor of English, mother, runner, volunteer, Girl Scout leader (God help me), success and failure. My greatest battle has been against myself and what Julia Cameron of The Artists Way would call my “inner censor,” who I like to think of as the Gollum to my otherwise pretty ugly but harmless Smiegel. Oh, yes. I love all things fantasy. Science-fiction some, but less so. I dislike being bound by rules of science, and much prefer rules of magic.
I like to claim that my brain has been on hiatus for the past few years as I’ve devoted most of my energy to raising my daughters. It sounds so much better than saying I’ve decided to phone it in for a few years and be professionally lazy so I can bask in the glory and defeat that is motherhood. Because honestly, these years (though at times they may seem endless) are not going to happen twice. I can always write. I only have a year to hug my 1st grader before she becomes a 2nd grader.
If I had my way, I’d stay up til 4am (the only way I want to see the sun rise is if it’s the last thing I see before I go to bed), get up at noon, drink coffee and read until 2pm, teach classes from 2-8pm, write from 8pm-2am, and watch tv until I fell asleep. Thank God I’m not allowed to do that. I’d be a wretch. Instead I have to institute a decent bedtime for myself so I can be a somewhat effective parent from 7am through 8pm, especially in the summer when the girls are with me all day. If I could force myself into a truly effective bedtime I would be able to get up before 7am and do some running. But baby steps, right?
I’m planning on a return to teaching, but only after I can give a writing career a fair shake. And thus, this blog!
When I’m not blogging, what am I writing? Well, I’m working on one book with a friend, but it’s her book, so I’m not going to go on about it here. My ideal writing material is personal essays and . . . romance novels. There. I’ve said it. You may laugh. Just not too hard, and not too loudly, for my ego . . . she is fragile.
Tread softly, dear readers, for I’m beginning “creative recovery” and my skin is thin as onion paper. Thank you.