Newsflash: I want to be a writer.
I know, I know. You’re all so very incredibly surprised. It’s like you’re all looking at me totally differently now, thinking, “She’s so full of surprises, that girl!”
But it’s true. I couldn’t keep it in any longer.
But why do I want to be a writer? Well, quite frankly, because I love writing. I love putting words and stories together. It doesn’t feel like work, but rather just something I was born to do. And so I aspire while life gets in the way.
Last week, I had two days off of work. Initially, I took the time off to go on a mini vacation with Chris. That was when he was supposed to go to Charlotte for work training from June 6-17. Plans changed, though, and his training got switched and he was gone all last week. And Emma left to spend the summer in Buffalo two weeks ago.
I could have saved the vacation days and gone to work, but I decided to just take the days and enjoy them. They gave me a taste of what my life as a professional novelist would be like. I think I would enjoy it immensely.
So, without further ado, I present “A Day in the Life of Renée the Novelist”:
I wake up around 7 in the morning (without an alarm!).
I check e-mail and Facebook and take an hour or so to lose the groggy, maybe even do some housework until I feel I have the energy to fit in a workout. The two days I had off, I spent around two hours exercising, including an hour-plus each day swimming laps. It was glorious.
Put on my writing playlist (which boasts a very large amount of Sarah McLachlan, Natalie Merchant/10,000 Maniacs, Irish folk music and Pam Tillis).
Write for a few hours.
Relax in front of the television or read.
Of course, some days would include other things, and I’d probably do some housework in the middle of some of those things — laundry, vacuuming, dishes. And I think if this were my daily routine, I’d make the time to get creative with cooking and learn new recipes and stuff like that.
It would be a good life.
Between Monday and Thursday last week, I wrote 3,700 words in a novel I’m determined to complete in the next few months. I need to make a committment to myself and my future, right now, to make time every day to work on my goal and to reach it. It would be helpful to live alone, but that isn’t a possibility, so I need to stop trying to do it all and make a choice. Each night, for no less than an hour, I’m going to take my MP3 player and netbook into the office/guest room in the back of my house (assuming Chris or Emma is home at the time — otherwise, I have a nice little writing area in my living room) and write.
A thousand words a day isn’t too much to ask of myself.