The lonely Life of An Ecstatic Writer

It’s lunchtime in my world so I took a break and have been pondering a conversation I had yesterday with a friend. I have now joined the Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators. One of the members task is to complete a small bio of myself, mainly my hopes and dreams with regards to the literary world and the books that I write.

I mention who I am, where I live, my family, my likes/dislikes, I choose a photo of myself that doesn’t crack the glass and I mention my past working career  – and that’s when it hits me.

I am no longer a member of the team I once sat with for over 12 hours a day, five days a week. Sharing stories about our lives outside work as if we were never going to see the light of day again. I no longer need to eat my lunch in three nano seconds so I can meet the next deadline. I no longer have to miss bed times, miss the smell of the boy’s hair after their bath when they are all sleepy and nodding off as you read their favourite book.  Their little cheeks flushed pink with the onslaught of dreams that are filling their minds and feeding their imaginations. Gone are the days of coming home and no-one is up to greet me, chat about their day or ask how mine was, although the answer was always the same – too vulgar for this blog I’m afraid, I know and me being a lady too! Seriously though, why do we do it to ourselves? Do I miss it? Not a bit.

Two years on and I can now put my hand up and say,’Yes, I am a writer!’ I have left the melancholy world of finance (it was to me by the end anyway) and now my family know who I am now rather than the ship that sailed by in the night. My boys devour me with love every day, not that they didn’t do that before, but it makes a difference.

I can go to the loo without having to go through eight security doors to do so and when the boys are at school – I get to do that all by myself. Imagine, a pee in peace.

It’s great to feel human again. How many people can say that they truly enjoy the job they are in at the moment? My husband doesn’t count, he is the only person I know that really enjoys his job. He knew from a very young age what he wanted from life. I just meandered along.

But I can say that now, my writing consumes me. I even think I now spend more time on my lap top than the other three members of my family put together – which is quite an achievement I can tell you.

I sit here at my desk/dining room table and look out at the garden, it’s so quiet and peaceful. The radio is off today as I mean business with this 9+ I’m writing, I am not at a loss for words to write, I’m just me. I think I have finally found what I want to do for the rest of my life, it’s a pity it took me so long to get here.

I’m just sitting here with a huge smile on my face, collecting the words and characters that constantly fly around in my head, getting them all down so I don’t forget them.

I’m alone. But I’m not lonely.