I don’t have children (besides my dogs and cat). Except for a few years working at a boys group home for juvenile offenders and wards of the state, preceded by a year working in a special education composite classroom, I’ve never had anything to do with teaching, training or taking care of any.
But I suspect this much is true: It’s considerably easier to sire children than raise them. Why do I bring this up?
Don’t worry, there’s no scandalous confession in the offing. It’s just that, for this week of the 15-minute Commitment, I’ve been concentrating on (I hope) tying up the ribbon on previously completed chapters, with the goal of finally seeing my novel through to the end. However, I’m finding this task far more difficult than filling up blank pieces of notebook paper or empty Notepad files.
That is, last week’s writing, while not always a snap, seemed to move along briskly, and the words flowed steadily. This week’s writing (technically rewriting) is more of a slog, perhaps because I’m putting more pressure on myself to turn out something I wouldn’t be ashamed to send out.
As analogies go, written fiction as kids is a bit of a stretch, I admit. Still, I trudge on, and I’ve stuck to my 15-minute Commitment and am definitely making progress. If you made a similar leap, I’d be curious to know how yours is going. Leave a reply here, if you’re so inclined. Just being nosy, is all.
Otherwise, best of luck. I hope we’ll all have something to celebrate before too long.