Just Time

If only I could take a sabbatical from work to write.

Take a year off as Counselor and serve as a Noon Duty instead.

Still see the kids at lunch and recess everyday, spend mornings writing, afternoons sending my work out for publication.

If only we could still pay the bills.

I envy people who don't worry about money, and though its seems that those who have it in excess worry about it even more, just in a different way.

I don't want anything fancy.

Just time.

Time to write before 9:55 at night. Time to edit. Time to submit essays to journals and magazines.

Time to work on the 300 pages of blog posts I printed out for my first book.

The binder filled with writing from Elias first three years sits by my bed untouched.

The file unopened.

I turned 43 on January 16th and my gift from Nick is to attend the Katchemak Bay Writers conference in June.

I can sign up to submit 15 pages of a manuscript and 20 minutes with an agent or editor.

Its a step.

Later than I originally imagined as a lost teenager scribbling away in countless journals, penning poor poetry and adolescent rants, and dreaming about fame as an author.

And yet now I don't want fame.

I just want the freedom to write.

Comments

[Danielle]

You go!!

[Noel Dennehy]

Don't you dare stop writing- you have a gift- you also have a gift as an incredible mother-a gift as an incredible loving appreciative wife and daughter. I have never met you- but I love you.