Writer’s Guilt
Escaping the guilt of life’s demands to finish book two
I announced to my husband that I needed to lock myself away somewhere if I was going to finish book two on time. His response was both supportive and expected. Okay, he tells me. When are you going? A week on Friday. How long will you be gone? Just a week — that should do it. Where will you go? I don’t know yet, but I’ve found this lovely retreat in the Wye Valley. They run writing retreats, but I don’t think there are any running right now so I’m hoping I can just have accommodation and that they’ll let me bring Sage. Oh, you’re taking Sage as well? When will you know? I sent an email and I’m waiting to hear back. And you’re taking Sage? Yep, she’s my muse.
I’ve locked myself away before and cracked through writing the second book of my space opera and outlined book three. (FYI – that series is next on my hit list for publishing). The funny thing is, Lionel (that’s my husband) is very accommodating when I’m writing. He gets on with other things and leaves me to it. I put on my headphones, crank up the EDM (Electronic Dance Music) and tap away for a few hours at a time. The problem is with me. When I’m sitting at my desk, I get distracted.
My plants need watering. The sun is out, so maybe I could do a bit of gardening. That pile of books won’t put themselves away. Gosh, those roses have gone crazy; they need trimming. Hmmm, my nut bowl is empty. I could just nip down and refill it.
Any number of distractions await me when I’m in the office. But when I escape and lock myself away in an environment that is not mine, then the guilt goes away. I no longer feel like I should be doing anything other than sitting at my desk writing. I’m in my office everyday Monday – Friday from 8am to 6pm most days. The last thing I want to do is sit at my desk on the weekend to write. Although I force myself to, it comes at a price. Wilted plants, laundry piles, quick dashes to the kitchen and back. And guilt for not being a better housewife. Okay, that last one was for comedic effect. I have no delusions of being a better housewife. Nope, that is not one of my aspirations in life.
So, I’m escaping. Leaving the guilt behind. I’m taking my dog, Sage, with me. And we’re going to tuck ourselves into a lovely hideaway in the Wye Valley and write. She will remind me I need to move occasionally and take her for walks along the country lanes. I will cook for myself and enjoy the solitude of writing. I will dive into the Facet worlds and find out where Bex is going, what adventures await her and her friends (both old and new). Lionel has already arranged several outings with his mates, so I won’t worry about leaving him for a week. I will not worry about my plants, or my garden, and the laundry can wait until I get home.
What do you do to make room for your passions?
If you haven’t read book one yet, you can get a copy here: