One of the best things about summer is having all my kids home.
One of the worst things about summer is having all my kids home.
Honestly, I can hardly type that second line without mommy-guilt spilling onto the keyboard. But summertime does pose a different schedule than what I'm used to with college-boy floating in and out between his work shifts, high school senior son working/practicing soccer/hanging around and third-grade daughter keeping them both in line.
My college sophomore son told me he spends most of his hours at work dreaming about his passion. As a jazz guitar major, he'd much rather be home composing music than scooping ice cream at a resort. But he understands that keyboards, drum machines and mixing boards cost money, so he's working a job he loathes to further a career he loves. He asked me the other day if I felt bad for not working on my novel much lately.
|My son--the musician|
"Well, I am published, just not fiction," I clarified. As a freelance writer, I've published hundreds of articles, but he was referring to my manuscript(s). "Yes, I'd love to be a novelist, but right now I have to think about what's best for our family. Working a writing job where I'm paid now as opposed to working on my novel which might pay me later has taken precedence."
He nodded in understanding and I went on to explain the similarities between his situation and mine. While we both have dreams of being someplace else career-wise, we're devoted to what has to be accomplished right now.
Later that evening as I heard him upstairs playing his newly-purchased keyboard--which took about 90 hours of manual labor to purchase--I decided it was the perfect time for me to open up my manuscript and start writing ... the story I'm dreaming of seeing published.