GenCon has come and gone, and that marks the end of summer. Which is a big deal for me this year. Because Kindergarten.
The youngest is five now, and she headed bravely off to school this week, with minimum difficulties. I had the traditional parental anxieties, but not too bad. While the house seems awful quite during the day, after ten years of babies and toddlers, I’ve decided that’s something I can live with.
There’s been something else that’s been gnawing at me though. Suddenly, for the first time in a decade, I have time. Time to sit and to write and revise and to do all those things I’ve been wishing I could do. Suddenly… I’ve lost my biggest excuse. I have time to write. Lots of time. And if I don’t write, I can no longer blame the children. It’s just me, slacking off. That makes me a little nervous. If I don’t have a dozen books published and five Hugos by the time she’s in fifth grade, that’s all on me, where’s my reason? I’ll have to fake Ebola, and it’s hard to bleed at will.
Combine that kind of irrational worry with the usual difficulties of trying to set up a brand new schedule, and I’ve been a little tense this week. Thankfully, I’ve been settling down though. Get up, take the kids to school, come home and let the internet eat my life until 9. Then write until threeish, with breaks for eating and cleaning and wandering in circles trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to name the waiter in third scene and why is that so important? The first few days were rough, but today it all kind of worked. I wrote. I revised. I only chased the cats a little. It was good.
I think I can make this work.
Although I might have to take Minecraft off this computer.