It’s swimming lesson time. Seven-year-old MrD is in the pool. Two-year-old MrX is up in the viewing gallery with me. I’ve had an idea for a story. I remembered my notebook and pen (for once). MrD is looking up at the viewing window. He’ll know if I’m not watching him. MrX is making a run for it. He finds this hilarious. Somehow I scratch out a couple of lines while chasing. Not sure I’m going to be able to read this later.
It’s early morning. For once, MrX didn’t wake up in the middle of the night and it’s my morning “lie-in” (my wife and I alternate) so I get up early to try to get a bit of writing done. Okay, I’ve only had four-and-a-half hours sleep, but that’s actually pretty good. I grab some breakfast. Too late! The boys are awake. MrD is tired. He wants a family breakfast. “I need my daddy” he shouts, grabbing hold of my legs and not letting go. By the time it’s done, it’s time to get them ready for school / child-minder and drive them off.
We’re hosting a children’s party. We haven’t cleaned the house for weeks. There’s so much chaos everywhere, you couldn’t fit a spare sock in most rooms, let alone eight hyperactive children and their parents. Writing time? Not this week.
MrX is up half the night, throwing up. It’s 2 a.m. and I’m scrubbing carpets with only a few hours until I have to get up again.
You’d have to be mad to have children as a writer. They eat time and energy. They’re brain leeches. They’re not going to listen to “I have to go and write”. And even if you sneak away, your brain is so addled how on Mars are you supposed to hold all those things you need in your head? Plot, character, theme, voice, good writing. You’re supposed to balance them all, intertwine them, tie them together. Even one of those is way too much for a child-sapped brain. You don’t even remember the last thing you wrote or who all those characters are or what’s going on.
I’m driving to school with the kids in the back. “Tell me a story,” says MrD, just like he does every day. So I do, just like every day. Stories of Captain Monkey and Queen Alora (with her pet T. rex), of the upside down land on the far side of the world, of dragon mountain and secret doors hidden in trees that lead deep into the Earth, of Evil Dr. Baddie, the raptor scientist, of adventures and exploration, of time tunnels and alien worlds.
Telling stories to a child as you drive to school makes you an agile storyteller. You don’t have the luxury of choosing your favourite cafe or putting on your playlist or making green tea. You don’t have time to think or plan. You don’t have time for outlines or inspiration. You have to get going, right now. “Let’s have wolves and a baby dinosaur,” he shouts as you’re half way through a story, and so you do. “Why don’t they do a spell to open a door?” “Why doesn’t he get kidnapped by monkeys?” “An earthquake!”
You’re never going to get that kind of enthusiasm from any other reader, the shining eyes, the excited bouncing in the seat, the full-on, undivided attention.
“Let’s write a book together!” he says.
“Your book is the best book ever!”
He proudly puts his copy of your book on his bookshelf, even though he’s too young to read it. He stares at the words and the cover and the illustrations. He wants to know what you’re writing next. He wants to write a sequel.
And two-year-old MrX, who has only managed a handful of words, trundling toward you, clutching a book, shouting “Ree! Ree!” (“Read! Read!”)
You’re a zombie. Your brain is 90% sludge and 10% caffeine. You forget why you walked into a room or where you’re driving to. You don’t even remember the last time you had five hours sleep. (Hell. You don’t even remember yesterday.) Writing comes in stolen moments when you really, really just need to slump onto your bed.
But it’s all made up for when your kid says, “Write me more!”
Being a parent and writing (and having a day job) is hard. Far harder than you’d guess before you have kids. Without kids, you’ll be far more productive. You may even write better. But you probably won’t write happier and your stories won’t matter anywhere near as much.
This was written as part of a Parenting And Writing/Editing Blog Tour. Here are links to the other blog posts so far in the blog tour. (I’ll add more as they happen.)
Today we spent the afternoon up at our local vineyard with a bunch of other mums and lots and lots of small children. (Yes, we do live in Wales. Yes, it rains a lot. Yes, there is a vineyard here.)
I actually packed my computer and notebook, intending to get on with some work (I’m desperately trying to finish off a novella that’s tied in to my forthcoming book, Secrets of the Dragon Tomb, and I have a freelance project due at the end of next week), but the weather was so nice and the kids were having so much fun that I left it all in the car.
Somehow, we seem to forget that this vineyard is nearby and that it’s absolutely great for kids (there’s a stream and plenty of places to play) and of course for adults, and then we remember and absolutely swear that we’ll come back. The Easter holidays are just beginning, and my brother Martin is bringing his kids down to stay for a couple of days, so if we get some nice weather (not guaranteed here!) we’ll have to bring them all up for an afternoon.
In the meantime, we’re not planning to go away anywhere over the break, so we’ll be trying to do some day trips with the kids. I’m going to take them to the aquarium in Bristol, and their grandma will be taking MrD to the science centre in Cardiff (his little brother, MrX, is too young for that), and then we’ll see. We’re thinking about the Wales National Showcaves, which look absolutely awesome but may need a few days rather than a day trip.
In between all of that, I’ll have to try to get some work in.
Still, it’s spring and it’s been warm, and I’m feeling happy. It’s funny how that can make everything seem much more possible.
So, I have been attempting to upgrade my Photoshop skills. In the old days, that simply involved undoing the top of the skull, removing the Photoshop-cortex and replacing it with a newer model, but you know the way that brains are made these days, what with being impossible to upgrade components yourself.
Anyway, I’ve been reduced to actually having to practice to get better. I know, right?
Most of my Photoshop work I do when I’m designing book covers or websites, but that doesn’t always give you the opportunity to practice the things you’re not good at, so I’m starting to do some ‘photomanipulations’ to practice my techniques.
I’m putting them up on deviantART (along with a few of my covers which I’m particularly fond of), which is an awesome place to see other people’s work and to get stock you can use for making images.
In other news, Steph and I have been together 13 years today, which, wow, is a long time, right? Neither of us could have imagined when we met at Clarion West back in 2001 that we’d end up here with our two lovely, amazing little boys and careers as professional writers. It’s been a fantastic 13 years. Thank you, sweetheart.
I've realised a lot of images on my website are of Tyrannosaurs.
This week was half term, so we took the boys up to London to register them for their American citizenship (they now have dual British-American nationality, British from me, American from Steph). After 3 hours sitting waiting in the US Embassy, we rewarded the boys with a trip to the National History Museum, and particularly the dinosaur gallery.
Baby X is a little young for it, but he likes crowds, but Mr D had what may have been the absolute best time of his life. He loves dinosaurs and adores animals, so he tore around, identifying species and boggling at everything. We chased after, trying not to lose him in the ridiculous crowds.
Anyway, we had a good time, and half term is over tomorrow, so Mr D is back to school and Steph and I have to get back to work.
Right now I’ve cleared out all of the freelance work I’ve had, so I can dive into writing. I don’t have long to draft my new book, and I have loads of figuring out to do before I can even start, so it’s going to be a busy few weeks.
It was an absolutely stunning day in Wales today. Beautiful, warm sunshine, a clear sky, a slight breeze to relieve the heat. I’ve become accustomed enough to the way British weather behaves with the kind of climate change we’ve been experiencing over the last decade to realise that this might be the best of the summer, even if it isn’t officially summer yet. So, me and the boys and Maya (our dog) went down to the river Usk to enjoy what might be a brief summer.
Mr D. dressed up in his explorer outfit and went looking for dinosaurs among the buttercups and long grass (we were chased by T. Rexes and raptors for most of the walk); Baby X fell asleep in his pushchair. Maya, who is getting on a bit, trudged gamely if not 100% enthusiastically behind.
Baby X understands the way to deal with summer days.
Mr D by the river Usk.
Now Mr D is playing in his paddling pool and I’m going to watch a bit of rugby.
We’re going to America at the end of July this year and staying for a bit month. So, I’ve decided my target is to write a complete novel before we go! (To be fair, this is going to be a chapter book, probably about 10,000 words, which sounds a little less impressive, so I’m going to say: I’m going to write a whole novel!)
So, last weekend was St. David’s Day over here in Wales. I’m not quite sure what St. David did to deserve a day, but he got one, and so did we (actually, we got three; see later). Anyway, because St. David is the patron saint of Wales, that meant that all the national historical monuments were free, so we took a trip up to Raglan Castle.
Mr. D
My brother was visiting, along with two of Mr. D and Baby X’s cousins, so, along with my mum, we made a big family trip of it. Mr. D ran into a bunch of his friends there, and spent most of the time tearing around the castle, being a dinosaur.
Astonishingly, nobody fell into a moat or off a tower or into a dungeon, but they did get impressively muddy, which kind of made me feel jealous. :)
This was Baby X’s first ever castle, and I’m not sure he noticed much of it, but it’s a tradition, because Castle Raglan was Mr. D’s first castle too.
Baby X
I love castles. Seriously. They are one of the best things about the U.K., and Wales in particular. They’re everywhere, and they’re magnificent. I want a castle. Really, any castle. My mum almost bought a house with a bit of castle wall in it, but then she didn’t. Supposedly, she would have had to maintain it, and it was crumbling. Bah, I say.
So, as I said, we’ve had three St. David’s Days this year (so far). There was the real one at the weekend, then Mr D.’s school is having an Eisteddfod for St. David’s day, and it overran to a second day. And then to add to the fun today we’re having World Book Day, and the kids have to dress up as a character from a book. Mr. D dressed up as a pirate from Jonny Duddle’s The Pirates Next Door. Mr. D has now dressed up three days in a row. (For St. David’s day, they dress up in Welsh national costume, which basically means a Welsh rugby shirt. I mean, it’s either that or dress up as a leek, right?)
