Right now, I am guilt personified.
This happens to me a lot, actually.
And, I imagine, that if you’ve ever tried writing a book,
it’s happened to you.
No matter how much I enjoy sitting down in front of my
computer and cozying up with my manuscript, there’s a piece of me — sometimes
small, sometimes quite massive — tugging at my heart with a whisper of “You
shouldn’t be here, you should be playing with the little guy.”
You see, I do most of my writing on the weekends. I have a
full-time job, a cadre of freelance, but most importantly, I have a 4-year-old
boy.
Thus, I have guilt. Huge, insufferable mommy guilt.
My guilt finds me hunched over my computer, shows me his
big, sad eyes, juts out his lower lip and whines in a full-on beg: “Mommmmmmy,
will you play with me?”
And it sucks.
Even though I play with him all the time.
Even though I play with him all the time.
Moms of all stripes will discuss the phenomenon as it
pertains to any activity they do outside of mommying.
Work full-time? Mommy guilt.
Like to exercise? Mommy guilt.
Just want to pee in peace? Mommy guilt.
And then there’s writing.
If you’re a writer, whether you’re a mom or not, you’ve got
guilt.
For sure.
You’ve got guilt that you’re not on the couch with your
spouse.
That you’re not out to lunch with your friends.
That your lawn looks like the perfect set for a live-action
version of “The Jungle Book.”
Guilt crushes us when we know we should be doing something
else with/or for real people we love, but instead, we’re hiding away, playing
with imaginary friends.
The real, live people in our worlds can tell us that they
don’t mind. That they know we’re doing what we love. But, even if we believe
that they really don’t mind, that doesn’t stop the guilt from metastasizing and
consuming us with each passing page.
As I’m writing this, as if her ears were burning, a writer I
follow on Twitter, Sarah Guillory, posted, “The hubby and the dog are both
snoozing, so I’m sneaking into the writing cave.”
When I asked her if I could use her Tweet as an example, she
was emphatic: “I ooze guilt."
I ooze it, too. And my guess is you’ve got a crust of guilt
you’re hoping to wash off after you get in the day’s word count.
Still, I try to minimize my guilt. I write on my lunch break at work. I edit manuscripts on my Kindle while working out. I write on the weekends only when I plan good quality time with the little guy and the hubby before or after my writing stint. It's not a perfect system, but it works.
How do you deal with your writer’s guilt?
Still, I try to minimize my guilt. I write on my lunch break at work. I edit manuscripts on my Kindle while working out. I write on the weekends only when I plan good quality time with the little guy and the hubby before or after my writing stint. It's not a perfect system, but it works.
How do you deal with your writer’s guilt?
Guilt is tough, usually because it arises out of making a choice. Hard as it is, I tell myself writing has to be the right choice, and writing makes me a better person for handling other responsibilities and being with people. That doesn't always alleviate the guilt, but it helps me feel better about writing. Hope this helps! If not, don't tell me. Can't take the guilt! ;)
ReplyDeleteOh, how I remember those days of having little ones (I had 4) lying on the floor outside the bathroom door whining "How much longer are you going to be in there?" when I was trying to read in peace. It doesn't get a lot better when the kids are grown and out of the house, either, Sarah. Then you're supposed to find time for grandchildren or your kids who NEED to talk to you. And if you have siblings and a sizable number of nieces, nephews and cousins by the dozen, there are lots of events they expect you to go to. Add the dog, who right now is bugging me to play, and cats, who want my attention as well as outside critters needing fed plus gardens that lay the guilt trip on me every time I look at them. Yes, I know plants don't speak, but their silence can be the silence of martyrs hoping you'll take the nasty weeds away that are surrounding them. Hang in there, Sarah, your little one will do just fine. The only parent who doesn't feel guilt is the one who doesn't care.
ReplyDeleteI have to agree with Gloria - the guilt means you care! Just remember that you have to take care of yourself so you can be a good mom.
ReplyDeleteAnd babysitters can be a good thing!
I'm glad you guys agree that the guilt means I care! And I do care, a lot. And if that doesn't mean I'm the fastest writer in the world, who cares? I'd much rather play with my kid for all of a Saturday before sneaking in 1,000 words after his bedtime, than get in a 10,000-word day and miss an entire day of bonding with him.
ReplyDeleteBeing retired I do not have guilty feelings about writing. In fact, sometimes I have guilty feelings about not writing. Is that progress or sublimation?
ReplyDeleteHowever, when I worked full-time, I did feel guilty about time I needed to recharge (and being an introvert that meant being by myself).
~ Jim
Oh, yes, the guilt can be overwhelming-a crazy dance of balance and tradeoffs. But I like to think I'm setting a positive example for the kiddo by showing him what it takes to work toward a dream without sacrificing family.
ReplyDeleteI think that's exactly right, Julie. We also take him to races that one of us runs to demonstrate the same thing. "See: We're doing what we love! You should, too!"
ReplyDeleteJ.K. Rowling wrote at a tea shop while her infant slept.
ReplyDeleteIt is never an easy balance. Determined writers make writing happen even if it is squeezed into the cracks in their lives.