I’ve been reading a few articles about guilt lately. Specifically, the guilt that settles on most, if not all, writers’ shoulders.
There’s the actual writing guilt: Did I write enough this week? Did I use my writing time well? What do I have to show for it?
And then there’s the family/life guilt that comes when you share your life with others. Is it okay if I use this time to write? Have I spent enough time with the kids/partner/spouse/mum/dad (and so on)? Should I be doing something else (like housework)?
I don’t want to re-hash what others have written about so well. But I would like to share a couple of things.
Firstly, I have reached 70,000 words on my novel. 70,000 since I started this journey around a year ago! I know some writers get out 50,000 in a month for NaNoWriMo, but if you’ve been following my journey, and you know that I take my time, this is huge!
Which brings me to my second point. While Blue Eyes is very supportive of my desire to write and produce novels, he worries sometimes that I will get so caught up in my writing life, my writing friends, writing events, and so on, that there’ll be little time left for hanging out with him. Sans notebook. Or laptop. Basically, he doesn’t want to be the handbag husband who only gets to hang out with me at writerly things. Fair enough.
So, last Sunday, I did no writing. Instead, Blue Eyes and I went on a day trip. We stopped at canola fields and babbling brooks.
We crossed the Avon river.
We found a lot of churches in the historical township of York.
And we held hands as we walked along winding tracks.
It was a highly enjoyed, much-needed day out and worth giving up writing time. It was an investment in my husband and our relationship. And I can’t feel guilty about that.
Oh, and we’ve also started ballroom dancing lessons. I’ll be a dancer yet.
Back to guilt … you might be interested in this article I wrote about guilty pleasures. But don’t feel guilty if you don’t have time right now. I get it.