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. Kath 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. Kath 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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