“Mama, Squid’s bleeding.”
And he was – sitting there calmly on the side of his bed, bleeding and laughing, his teeth stained an eerie red, with the entire side of his room coated in a layer of blood. It looked like a scene from Dexter.
“Holy crap… are you okay? DragonMonkey, how the heck did this happen?!”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I stomp on Squid’s nose with my foot to make him laugh.”
“Again?! Again, DagonMonkey? Hahahahaha…Kick me again!”
****
“MAMA! Squid is throwing the kittens’ poo-poo all over the toy room again!”
****
“MAMA! Squid made Artemis all white with baby powder again, and now it’s everywhere!”
****
“Mama! You need to get outta the shower – I tried to count the chicken eggs but they all fell off the counter and I’m sorry and they broke and now Artemis and Squid playing in the mess and it is everywhere. Please help.”
****
“MAMA! Squid trying to get Artemis to chew the TV cord and it’s gonna burn her and she’s gonna die, and then I’m not gonna have a puppy, and please hurry up going poo poo or we gonna have a fire!”
****
“Mama, Squid opened the dishwasher again and he got a big knife and he won’t give it back to me.”
****
McDonald’s BBQ sauce is borderline impossible to get out of a carpet. So is oil. And a quarter pound of bacon grease.
****
If you dump apple juice on the ground and walk on it, you can make sticky footprints EVERYWHERE 😀 😀 😀
****
“Mrs. Becky! DragonMonkey and Squid are throwing books and breaking things and they won’t stop, no matter how much I tell them to.”
****
“Mama, Squid bit me!”
****
“Mrs. Becky, Squid bit me!”
****
“Mrs. Becky, Squid bit my brother, and then when DragonMonkey told him to stop, he bit DragonMonkey!”
****
“Mama, Squid’s eating the dog food again!”
*****
“Maaaa, D’agonMonkey hiiiiit meeeee…….”
*****
“Mama, I sorry I color the walls and your jacket and my book.”
*****
“Mama, I sorry we chew up the library book. I sorry you have to pay lots of money to the library man to buy the book.”
*****
*****
*****
My book revolves around a woman trying to do whatever is necessary to keep custody of her three year old boy.
The thing is, the only time I have to write is at 9 o’clock, after I put my little monsters in bed…. and by the time 9 o’clock rolls around, the last thing in the world I want to do is pick up my laptop, open my writing software and immerse myself in a world where I have to take care of another kid, even if it’s a fictional three year old.
I swore to myself I’d have my rough draft done by the end of January, and be ready to submit it by mid April.
The thing is, every time I open up a chapter and start writing I begin actively daydreaming about having my main character just give the kid back to his dad and drive off into the sunset, never to return.
Since that’s the antithesis of the entire book, it’s not exactly something I can just fold into the storyline.
And that’s how I gave myself writer’s block.
Mental note to future self: make the next story about freedom and lack of responsibility and sleeping in and horses, so it’s a place to escape to, not escape from.
Good thing they’re cute!
Any harm in putting aside the current book and starting the “escape” book? Better the story you’re writing than the one that’s blocking you?
What happens if you make the kid nine and old enough to wipe his own bum and make breakfast alone?
Make the kid 7. Old enough to make breakfast etc, but not yet at the age where you need to hand him a shovel or an ax and tell him to do major landscape renovation in order to save your own sanity.
Better yet, make the kid a dog. A really floofy dog.
Put the manuscript in a drawer and write something that is pure escapism. Xx
Put the manuscript in a drawer and write something that is pure escapism. Xx
Yeah, the only thing saving them is that they are absolutely freaking adorable.
Only thing.
I just want to say thank you for writing this. I go through the same thing.
For my piece of unsolicted advice, put your tired in your character. She has to do all that and overcome whatever you throw at her. To see a glimps of her fantsising about running away, then coming back anyway will make her very real and interesting. We’ve all been there, mama, but we want to read about how others dealt with it too.
Personally, I’m using Camp NaNoWriMo to write a trashy novel. Involving horses. And rich, handsome men. And strong, beautiful women who can handle everything I throw at them. Good luck!