Welcome to Writer Rants–where every Friday a writer just lets loose on whatever the heck is bugging them this week. Enjoy.
When I have my writing hat on, I like to work in a quiet room. I do most of my writing at home on my laptop, with my feet propped up on an ottoman. When I am home by myself, I get a lot of writing accomplished. Besides the phone, which I ignore, there is no one home to bother me. That situation changes drastically once my high-school-age daughter comes home. She seems to have trouble understanding when I am in work mode. But why should she grasp that concept since my husband is even worse.
When my husband walks in the door, the first thing he does is to start talking. He doesn’t even come up the steps from our side door, before he is spouting off to me. Seriously, he can’t even see me around the wall, before he is talking. He never asks me whether I am busy, if I am working or have a few minutes. This behavior continues throughout the evening, even when I put on headphones to block out sound. It isn’t until I tell him point blank that I am working on something, that he stops, and then he looks hurt that I have halted him. Of course, he is the first person to ask me for money to add to our household budget.
This behavior wouldn’t bother me so much if it happened sporadically; however, it seems to happen almost daily. I am not sure if this is a matter of respect, blind ignorance or what.
Professional writers seem to always have to defend their career. Until a writer becomes the next Seth Godin or James Patterson, family and friends often do not understand that it takes hundreds of hours of work to produce excellent content. Even with the obvious need for written content used in magazines, newspapers, books and advertising, writing is one of those occupations that people do not think is legit. I am not sure where they think all of those written words come from.
While I know that writing is a competitive profession, it is no different from many other careers that people joust for. I personally love the fact that I only require an internet connection, a computer and my brain to work. If I had my druthers, I would write as I toured the fascinating cityscapes of the world.
In the meantime, I will have to put up with the interruptions caused by my loving family in the best fashion that I can, while building my writing career to equal that of Margaret Atwood. At that point, I should be able to hire an assistant to stop people from bothering me.
Paula A s a freelance writer who works with a cup of coffee at her side to keep herself fueled. When she is not writing, editing or drinking coffee, she is chauffeuring her family to activities, making jewelry, trying recipes or making a quick run for a hazelnut latte.
