Passion or Domesticity: A Modern Dilemma
Last week I attended two great workshops hosted by my colleagues from the Wordcraft Chapter of the League of Utah Writers. This group is abundant with talent, knowledge, and enthusiasm. The information presented was inspiring and motivating. After each workshop I rushed home with desires to camp out at my computer.
Then I walked in the door, laundry baskets filled to the brim called my name. The pots from the cooking of the last two days still sat on the stove. The family room was awash with my daughter's clothes spilling from her suitcase (just back from a trip two weeks ago). Finally, the cat stood at the pantry door (her universal signal that indicates that she hadn't been feed that day). Is it just me or did Hemingway, Collins, Austen, Grisham, or Rollins have these problems? Did the sirens of domesticity and the gargoyles of the order of cleanliness call to them?
It takes all of the patience within me to keep from letting choice words and expletives shoot out of my mouth as if I was writing a gritty story about a salty sailor. I really wonder if it's just me or do other writers have the same angst? There are days that all I "wanna" do is WRITE! I want to lock the door and not be disturbed unless there is a crisis of epic proportions that would have the world collapse without my aid. You really don't have to be a woman or a writer to feel this way. You just have to have a deep passion and domestic demands pulling you from away it. I love the click of my keyboard. I like the way the "pithy" words spill on the page. I love it when two characters are embroiled in conversation. Then, after two or three pages, I stop and realize I created that scene. I wasn’t just the observer, but I was the creator.
I guess it is the control you have in writing that you don't have in your household. Yes, there are editors, readers, and those who just don't like what you write, but you don't care. You still write. Housework and your domestic duties never cease to exist. They always return.
So, readers, take the opportunity to seek your own nirvana. When I can't look at another domestic task, I take my laptop and hide.