I've heard there's a meter of perfect stillness in the center of those crazy tropical storms. And I always wondered how the heck that was possible. But now I get it. Yes. I'm about to get ZEN on you. I've resisted blogging and/or talking about the whole "writing while in grad school and working fulltime thing", just because part of me was worried that people would judge me about how much I'm able to accomplish right now. Like for example, my grad school advisor, who seems to think my dreams of being a professional novelist are a quaint Generation Y version of a hobby. NOT TRUE.
Yes, my days are turning into this weird ping pong schedule that somewhat resembles a flamboyance of flamingos trying to order a hamburger. I write in the morning, go to work and do story times, run graphic novel book clubs, read academic papers on the history of cataloging at my lunch break and after work, do more class things like ponder what is the point of metadata? (Seriously, if you know the answer, please tell me, because I don't know.) And it has been suggested to me that maybe I should just pull the writing out, and I'd have a bit more sanity. Not true. First of all, I had no sanity to begin with.
And secondly, the thing I'm finding out, is that the writing helps me stay me. School is draining, frustrating, and slowly pulling all the joy out of working at a library. Counterproductive, I know, but I love my job and would really like to be an official librarian. But far from being draining, the hour or two I spend writing in the morning energizes me. I go into work knowing I put words down on the page, and even if they weren't good words, (and let's face it, they're probably not,) I was able to kick out from all the other deadlines that circle my head all day, long enough to follow my characters around while they lived their lives. I had an hour to be me.
So, I just wanted to throw it out there, that if there's anyone else who's being told, "you might be too busy to write." I get you. Don't feel like you're being selfish if you just want to sit down and write. Leave the dishes, forget the laundry, and start buying those little cans of tuna that come with spoons. Seriously. They are very useful. Lots of protein.
Drop it all and write. Just write. Let the tropical storm go and knock over a hay field or something. For an hour, your only allegiance is to the words on the page.