MOVING ON

From the latest issue of Writers Ask

You know that they used to say a woman could either be a writer or have a family. Was that much of an issue for you? Finding the solitude that being a writer requires?

It's very hard. There's no way of glossing it over. It's very, very difficult. At this point my children are grown, but still they're -- of course -- more important than my work. And that's how it is. It's a very hard question. When they were little it was a constant struggle. I think that a woman who has children can never give herself as totally to her work as a woman who doesn't. I sometimes think back through history: Were there any great women writers with children? I've been unable to find any. Of course, the way history is written we don't know...but those whom we know didn't have children and families. and in this generation, it's too early to tell who will be the great ones, the enduring ones.

It's hard. It will continue to be hard, because the energy comes from the same place. You give the same kind of profound engagement to the writing and the children. It's not like being a waitress and being a writer. It comes from a different part of your mind.

What kind of schedule do you keep when you write?

...Writing is not something you do when you're in the mood. People always say, how do you find time to write? It's really the amateur's question because it misses the point. The point is how do I find time to do anything else. You don't ask a doctor how he finds time to take care of patients--that's what he does.

What advice would you give to writers just starting out?

Well, the task differs for each person. You have to really want to write very passionately. I mean, there must be no question that this is what you want to do. If there's any question like, "Well, do I want to be a writer or would I do better in law school?" you'd probably do better in law school. If you want it badly enough, you'll find yourself turning down other things you want to do. But you have to be kind of ruthless and say no to a lot. You have to have perserverence. It really takes a kind of nerve--not only in what you write. The whole act is very nervy. Sometimes you find yourself sitting there thinking, "What am I doing?" "How can I say these things?" And you somehow have to believe that it's worth it. --- Lynne Sharon Schwartz, author of In the Family Way, The Fatigue Artist, Disturbances in the Field, Rough Strife, Leaving Brooklyn and others.


I don't mean to beat this issue to death but today, at 9:45 a.m. EST I delivered all of the equipment, files, folders, forms and other miscellany back to the company for which I worked nearly two years. After saying my righteous goodbyes, a strange, very surreal sense of freedom and relief washed over me. I felt the need to clean -- wiping off my desk, vacuuming the floor of my home office space that I share with Spouse, pulling my futon from around the corner (that I really bought for Kid 1 and 2 to bounce around on but is rarely used) and putting it in the office space, heading off to Target for a nice lamp and shade to put next to the futon where I can now sit and ponder and read. A space of my own, free of clutter, absent of toys and crayons and markers and trucks and trains. A place where I can finally step into, without hesitation, without foreboding for the work I need and intend to do.

I guess this is why the thought of having more children, for me, is a pleasant thought but nothing more. Nothing that I intend to act upon, let me say. The hard cold reality is, as the author states, the energy to write (create) and to mother (create, mold, shape) come from the same place. And the energy is finite. One only has but so much to give in the course of twenty four hours, in the course of a lifetime. And this is the same reason why, after working at this job, I have come to understand why most artists work as waiters and waitresses...fake it till you make it...because the energy is finite and most jobs usurp a tremendous amount of that the limited creative supply that you have. I have come to understand something about myself too. That I am a free spirit. I cannot be contained in an office, to a schedule, to day-long meetings that end in nothing but "to be continued." I am miserable when I can't write, when the day escapes before I've had the chance to sit my charachters down on the page, record a verse of poetry or jot an entry into my journal. I am equally annoyed when I have not had a chance to sit and just think, listen to my own thoughts and process my feelings. I have wanted this freedom for so long that it's almost scary to see something you've prayed for come to fruition. It's like ... this is too good to be true.

So anyway, as a progress note, I delivered about 20 poems and three short stories to my professor friend who is going to edit it all for my chapbook which I'm hoping will be out in the fall. Also, I found a local artist who's interested in doing the cover art. We'll meet sometime next month after I return from Iowa. I started a checklist of things I need to do to in the upcoming weeks, including but not limited to the application for the ISBN number and a host of other things. I'm using two quotes in the epigraph, one by Langston Hughes and another by Chinua Achebe. I need to nail down my opening statement which as I look at it now, might be offensive to some family folk. Maybe not offensive but, let's just say, eye-opening. And so there are adjustments needed so that no-one is left with hurt feelings. I also need to get ready for Iowa, since this workshop is about POV and I've taken creative license to use Omniscient as opposed to Limited Third Person. I need to get that opening chapter rewritten so that I can 'shop it in Iowa. Lots to do. Lots of good stuff to do.

Oh, and Kid 1 is just too pleased that MommaGirl is free now. Free to sit and make bead bracelets with her and talk about which LipSmacker is prettiest: the Blueberry or Strawberry or PassionPink ??? and to paint clear glitter polish on her tiny toenails and jump in the MotherShip to run all these crazy errands and eat ice cream and hotdogs and wander off to the playground for some "girltime" while Kid 2 plays his little heart out at nursery school/camp and the only hand I have to hold is hers and then to jump in MommaGirl's big old bed with Momma and Kid 2 and take long naps and dream about dinosaurs and magic carpets.

Life is good.

Be Well. Be Love(d).
ANGEL