Thursday, September 15, 2011

The Trials of a Chameleon

My days are often over before I am even aware they have begun.
It's so frustrating. The thing is, I am a very introverted person caught in an extrovert's life. It's tiring and my creative mind is having difficulty working properly under so much stress. No. I cannot back off. Years ago I decided my sons would not be hindered by my quirky, hermit self. We are booked most nights of the week and now that Scouting has started for this school year, we are also booked most weekends.
It's overwhelming when I want to be my writer self.
As a teenager I would go out on nice autumn days and stretch out on a large tree that had fallen across a creek and just lie there and daydream and think. After awhile I would go in and begin writing. Or, if I didn't fall asleep on the log first, I would hop down and curl up against a hollowed out tree and write in my journal.
These days are over.
I have become hyperactive. It is very difficult for me to even just sit and watch a movie and do nothing else. There are days when it finally becomes too much and I will just sit in the shower and cry. That sounds so horribly girly, but cut me some slack. I only cry for a minute or two before I realize such silliness doesn't accomplish anything, then I pull myself up by my bootstraps and trudge on.
What's the point? Who cares? The gals who have read Filter care. They want to read the second book and I am trying to write it not from my practical mind but from my creative mind. Good grief, maybe I should change my pen name to Sybil. Thing is, it takes a lot of time to slip away, for the worries of the day to melt into the background, to stop thinking about reviews and the bills I can't pay because I'm not selling enough books and how I should really just get a real job with a steady paycheck and benefits. I'm good out there in the business world, in the world of broadcast journalism....but I am also a dreamer, a drifter, a bit of a flake. I'm kind of like Madonna, only with stronger morals and more clothes and sans the personal trainer. I can redefine myself to fit the moment. But now, with writing becoming my job...I find that the practical and creative sides of my worlds have crashed together.
How to be one and the other all at once?

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