Crap Mother of the Year Award.

Good afternoon, all

Ah, the sun is shining.

Oh dear, the dreaded question has been posed – How do you manage your writing time and family commitments/job? My answer – I doubt very well. My writing takes priority.

I have decided I may be up for crap mother and housewife of the year awards. Not that I am bothered. I have won before. I have to confess, housework and motherly duties come second to my writing. Ok, before you all raise your hands in horror and call up social services, I have to inform you my children are old enough to move out {why don’t they?}. Rafa, of course, is still too young to leave home but he is content with a handful of bunny food and a nice spot by the sofa and, as my literary agent, he does provide a service therefore I do not mind taking time away from the pc to care for him. He is cuddly too.
My life is split into two seasons; winter and summer. Winter is for bumming around the house in baggy pyjama bottoms and my son’s discarded Death Metal t-shirts. I have a horror of early morning rising. I feel physically sick. I was like this as a child. While most kids dreamed of ponies and the latest chopper bike, my wish was to own a mechanical bed that, at the push of a button, would drive me to school and then park up in the back of the classroom so I wouldn’t have to get out of bed at all. I once went to bed fully dressed in my school uniform so I could nab an extra hour of slumber in the morning. My mother was not amused. Needless to say I had to change.
But now, older and definitely not wiser, I am free to set my own time schedule. I drag myself from my bed around ten {ish}, let Rafa out of his cage, shove on the coffee and then, with a huge mug of brew, I switch on the pc. Somewhere around midday, I remember I haven’t got any food in the house,

I need to put on a wash and I better start on the dishes. As for cooking – my family is used to eating a bizarre hours. It could be 2, 3, 4pm. I do actually love cooking. I have been told I am a very good cook but then, with a 5 star chef quality mother and grandmother leading the way, I had no choice. But I am not a faffer. I hate this measuring out malarkey. Cooking should be instinctive.
And so, on to the rest of my day. After lunch/ dinner {whatever it is}, back to the pc. Someone once said to me, you’re ok, you don’t have to work. You just sit at the pc all day. Er – excuse me? As you writers out there know, there just isn’t enough hours in the day to accomplish all we want to accomplish: works in progress, editing, blogging, promo, querying agents/pubs. The dreaded synopsis writing, researching for w.i.p, Facebook…oops, where did that come from. Actually, ladies and gents, we need FB. It is an essential tool, right? RIGHT??? Somewhere around 11-12, I fall into bed and watch some TV. I do love police tales. My fave show of the moment is The Closer. So that is my winter day
Summer is not so easy to balance. I am seasonally employed as a hotel receptionist. Work begins at 2pm and I get home around 10 – 10.30 pm. Every year, I promise myself I will keep up with my stuff at home but it never quite works out that way. Summer, however, is when I will start on a new story. Usually, in the afternoon, the hotel has a slow couple of hours when the guests are down the beach and I manage to scribble down my thoughts on a scruffy notebook hidden under the desk. Sometimes, however, it’s just too damn hot to think straight. Also kinda of difficult to write out a steamy scene when the phone rings or someone comes and asks for their room key. I think, this year, I will get a sign. Do Not Disturb, Genius at Work – Get your own Bloody Key.

{Guests have been known to do this but just don’t tell my boss}.
So, is it really about balance? I think it is more about making a choice. If you want to go out for Housewife/mother/wife of the Year award than all I can say is – don’t take up writing. If you want to be a writer, well, in the words of Marie Antoinette – Let Them Eat Cake. {Or in my case, pitas}. Off to order in. See you all soon.