The Balance of All Things

All right, so it’s not the bal­ance of all things, merely cer­tain aspects of my life.

This week­end, Simone and I fin­ished what we call the first reader’s draft of our sec­ond MS.  ::incred­i­bly happy dance goes here::  The story has seen a fair whack of revi­sions already, and we’re to the point where it’s time to let other eyes peruse it, and tell us what they see.  After we have some time away and feedback/crits in our emails, we can assault it with fresh brains.  Which is awe­some.  I love this part of the process, because it’s like magic.  Take a cou­ple of weeks away from the story, add a dol­lop of feed­back from our gen­er­ous and stal­wart cri­ti­quers, then see what cool things emerge.   And while the MS is out hav­ing adven­tures, I get to dive into all the things I haven’t done for the last … well, a while.

For instance, gar­den­ing.   Or, catch­ing up on the five dif­fer­ent TV shows I’ve missed entire sea­sons of.  And there’s my poor fam­ily who would like some atten­tion.  And respon­si­bil­i­ties like clean­ing the fish­tanks, or mak­ing sure no one starves because I’ve neglected to buy gro­ceries for three weeks straight.  Which reminds me, I need to buy gro­ceries.  Or maybe I’ll clean the house.  It hasn’t had a deep and mean­ing­ful clean since Sep­tem­ber, which is, not coin­ci­den­tally, when we started work­ing on this story.  And in a few days, Simone and I will start on the Phase II revi­sions of our first MS.

You see how it goes.

It’s true that I some­times groan and whim­per at all the things I want/need to do, and won­der why, why, why I can’t be inde­pen­dently wealthy so I can write 40 hours a week, instead of work­ing out­side the house (this moan­ing does not take into account awe­some health ben­e­fits), then I’d have all that other time to do things like gro­ceries and gar­den­ing.  Which is, I believe, what most artists/writers/dancers/creation-gurus/every-day peo­ple want.  Why can’t we just live the life we love??

Then it dawned on me, and I’ll be the first to admit, I’m some­times slow on the uptake.  I am liv­ing the life I love.  For cry­ing out loud, I’m writ­ing NOVELS!  Two, so far, and many more to go!  I get to col­lab­o­rate and cre­ate with a bril­liant, insight­ful, delight­ful, won­der­ful friend on an almost daily basis.  I get to play with words, and weave sto­ries together, and do research, and go on site tours, and take the Seat­tle Police Department’s Com­mu­nity Acad­emy, and dream up new and delight­ful ways to make my char­ac­ters suf­fer or find redemp­tion or fall in and out of love–or all the above!

There’s a gra­cious lot of AND in my life.

Do I wish I had more hours in the day?  Of course.  Don’t we all?  But I can’t say I’m not liv­ing my dream, because I am.  Every day that I sit down and work on a story, I’m liv­ing my dream.  And for now, my day job pays for my real job, and that’s really much more than all right.

As for all the rest of life?  It will work out.  It always does.   And therein lies the bal­ance of all things.

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Nicole
    Jun 02, 2011 @ 11:33:13

    Con­grats again, ladies, on fin­ish­ing your first reader’s draft of your sec­ond ms! So happy for you on reach­ing this milestone.

    Also, thanks for the fan­tas­tic post, Kath. It’s so easy to focus on all the hard bits, but you’re so right–writing nov­els is awesome.


  2. Jer
    Jun 02, 2011 @ 17:08:49

    Amen, sis­ter, preach on. We are liv­ing our dreams. I am liv­ing mine, and thank you for remind­ing me of that. Our dreams are not some­thing that hap­pens tomor­row, or when finally I have x, y, AND z in place — only then will I be liv­ing the dream — no. We live our dreams when we…include our dreams into our wak­ing world, when they are part of our daily con­cerns and actions. Our dreams live us, or through us. I am reminded of a lyric from a song here, “thank you for mak­ing the dreams that chose me come true.” I like this line. It reminds me that there is a real felt sense when our dreams arrive like a unknown guest at the door. We may not com­pletely rec­og­nize exactly what we are look­ing at when we open the door to answer that knock, or how life will be dif­fer­ent for us. How­ever, as revealed in your post, it is when we stop and look back that we can more eas­ily rec­og­nize the magic of the dreams that have cho­sen us and how they have informed our daily life. Let the adven­ture con­tinue for us all :)


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