So, I would have a lot to tell you about what’s been going on since the boys turned 1, but that would require that I actually be somewhat coherent and observant and present in my own life, and that’s just not been the case.
Since January 26, four days after their birthday, I’ve been obsessively writing something that was starting out as a silly story about a certain teen saga, and it has sort of turned into a novel in progress. And now I am really mad at myself that I didn’t just write an all original novel with all original characters that I can sell and instead had to borrow some heavily used and abused characters from someone who, let’s face it, can’t even fucking write. Lesson learned.
This thing has a drop dead date. I’m going to have a first draft done by 2/26 and I’m not going to dedicate the time to do a rewrite. I can’t allow it. Instead I’m allowing myself to make the story go from one end to the other just to prove to myself I can actually write a novel.
I have always, forever and ever, wanted to write a novel. I knew that I could write. Not just blog posts, song lyrics, progress notes or training curriculum, either. I can actually write fiction. I am no literary marvel (that would be Mr. Myg/Wisermom/aka Alex). But I can put words together in a way that might interest you and motivate you to keep reading. I just haven’t done it in a very long time.
Writing this thing (oh Jesus, let’s just call it what it is already, a fucking fan fic) is embarrassing in its all encompassing hold on my attention. My poor children. I am near them when I am with them, but all the while my mind is working on this scene or that plot detail or this exchange. If I was writing something not a fucking fan fic, this might seem not so bad, like, I was really absorbed in the creation of something worthwhile. As it is, it feels a lot like sneaking twinkies into your lunch bag, eating them at your desk with the door closed, hoping nobody comes in to chat.
It would make no difference if I wasn’t busy, you see. But I. Am. So. Fucking. Busy. I have two babies. I have a job with work that has to get done. I am training to become faculty at University of Phoenix. I have a show to play on March 5th. And yet, my mind is always, always working on this fucking thing.
Such it is when you’re damned with obsessive/compulsive traits. So pass the crack pipe. It’s no sleep until 2/26.
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Writing a book with two kids (especially twins) is NOT easy, but you may surprise yourself. My name is Abigail Pogrebin; I’m an identical twin and former 60 Minutes producer who just published a book about twins called “One and the Same.” I think any parent of twins or multiples will find much to chew on and maybe some guidance as to how to dodge pitfalls of doubleness. I’d love to speak to you about the possibility of a book review and/or author Q&A. My email is apogrebin@gmail.com, website:www.abigailpogrebin.com.
I can’t WAIT to read this!!! the WHOLE thing. ok i know that it take a bit to get over the fanfic part – but writing is writing. and writing is gooooooood. and i get the obsessing – BELIEVE me!
: )
[ok my comment is not nearly as cool as your previous comment!]