A few days after ringing in the new year, I came down with a cold. It started as a mild sinus infection, but has gotten worse and migrated down to my chest. On top of that, my German shepherd is having hip problems and has to be on rest for two weeks, which is driving her insane because she can’t burn off her energy. That, in turn, is driving everyone else insane, including poor Lexi, who just wants to be left alone.
And then… our pipes froze. There doesn’t appear to be any damage, but it took us all of Saturday morning to get them defrosted. Imagine me, coughing, waving a hair dryer over my pipes, kicking all sorts of dust and grime into the air, making me cough even more.
So despite my plan to start revising my novel on January 1, I’ve yet to touch the thing. Now I feel like it’s taunting me from its resting place on my shelf (it exists as a handwritten scrawl in a 5-subject notebook).
I started this novel—which I affectionately call my “dead people novel”—in 2011. Seven years ago! Today, it certainly feels like it will take another seven years to finish. To be fair, I haven’t been working on that novel continuously for seven years. I wrote half a draft, realized it was all wrong, started over. Wrote another 20,000 words, then decided I wanted to do a collection of short fiction for my MFA thesis. That book took me three or four years to put together, and then I got back into my dead people novel, with a few more breaks for other projects.
Still, it feels like I will never ever ever finish this novel. Especially when I’m busy hacking up a lung and trying desperately to stay on top of all my other, non-novel-writing responsibilities.
That’s the constant struggle of the working writer. Anything and everything will eat into your writing time if you let it. And sometimes, you HAVE to let it. I don’t care if some dude with an MFA from Iowa or Columbia says you should write every day and never let anything get in the way, ever, because that guy probably doesn’t have a boatload of student loan payments and frozen pipes to deal with. So screw him.
I will revise my novel this year. And I will get started soon, hopefully later this week. But first, I’m going to give myself some space to rest, catch up on a few things, and feel better, so that when I come to the page I have actual coherent thoughts to put down.
Here’s to hoping your 2018 is off to a smoother beginning than mine!