When I write, I always try to write early in the morning, when the world is quiet and Poppy isn’t awake yet. Even though my kids are all out of the house with their own kids, life always seems to be hanging around right at the threshold of my den, threatening to knock and bring me right back with a bang into the real world. Lately the real world has scared my hero and heroine right out of their wits, and out of my creative line of fire. I’m fighting to get them back in line again. It has been a big battle, one that waged this very morning.
I’m hard at work trying to get the job done of plotting, creating, and just trying to finish four pages before I hear those very disturbing and annoying words. “Hey, what are you doing?”
That’s Poppy standing at the threshold, holding a cup of coffee, knowing what I’m doing but asking anyways.
Why do men do that? I don’t get it. Kids have more sense.
Then there are the cats. We have two black cats. Both were strays, and they’re our kids. We went from, “no more pets so we can travel,” to two. Now we don’t travel as much. Oh, they’re worth it. Poppy says they’re little money savers, since we are home more because of them. But, if those two could talk, Zip and Lucky, they’d be at that threshold, holding a mug with Garfield on it, steaming with kitty coffee, yawning, scratching and asking, “Hey, watch ya doing?”
What they actually do is, walk on my desk, lie on my key board, sit in front of the monitor, and hit delete with a smile, I
swear.
The little guy, Lucky is a love machine. He wants to be in my lap. Not just in my lap but held like a baby, purring very loudly. He’s very pushy about it too. “I’m trying to write over here, kitty!”
Poppy doesn’t get his question answered, because he knows what I’m doing. The cats get the door closed on them, which doesn’t make any of them very happy. I’ve got to watch it when I’m open, said door, and step into the hall, I might trip over one of them. The funny thing about that, the cats wouldn’t get hurt, but I’d probably end up with a broken ankle or something. Then I’d be lying in a hospital bed with my computer on my lap, trying to write around the nurses visits.
Herculean Task: What is waiting outside your writing door?
About Lee
I have three boys and two dogs wondering what’s for dinner! They absolutely drive me crazy. But I wouldn’t change it for the world.
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Oh my gosh, what’s not waiting at the threshold of my door?!
Today, an eye doctor appt and my first pick up of co-op veggies/fruit! Plus I’m going to host a CABI show so I’m meeting my friend to discuss. Then back to the computer until it’s time to pick up 2 of my 5 kids.
We recently adopted a stray kitty, too. Actually, he was rescued by a friend of a friend. Now we’re all on vigilant kitty duty because we also have 2 lovely, but fierce (at times) boxers.
Yearbook adviser (for elementary, which means I’m putting it together, which I want to do, but OMG, the time!), newsletter writer for same elementary, teacher appreciation coordinator (no, I’m not on the payroll there!), high school band kids, one senior who’s starting his application process, I teach scholarship and college app essay writing clinics…
Phew, I need a nap.
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Lee are you sure you’re not trying to write at my house?? If I don’t have my family stopping by unexpectedly for a visit, housework that is screaming my name, I’ve got Cookie (aka Fat Cat), and Mia (aka Ewok, or Fuzzy Dog) sitting at my feet sighing and groaning because we aren’t in bed. My desk and laptop are in my bedroom so they think any time we’re in that room, we have to be in bed sleeping. It’s gotten to the point that I no longer try to write at home because something ALWAYS interrupts me.
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Lee, first, I LOVE these pics! Second, I’m laughing because Mr. L. does the exact same thing. He saunters over, stands over me with his piping hot cup of coffee in hand, and says, “Hey, whatcha doin’.” “Well, let me see,” I say. “I aced my final exam to become a full-fledged Navy Seal; I just fired off an encrypted message to my Ops Forces, slipped on my wet suit and scuba gear, and in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 I’m blasting off – target, the Atlantic Ocean to disarm terrorist legions who want to blow our butts up….So how ‘bout fetching me a cup of coffee, sweetums.” :- )
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I’m so happy I wrote this post. I don’t feel so alone. All the responses made me smile, and chuckle abit. Now my grandson is asking for ‘cereal, wit Tiger on it.’ I’m saying no suger, and wondering “why did my son buy that cereal?” Didn’t I raise him better then that!? Once again I’m chasing my hero and heroine around trying to catch them while battling Tony the Tiger in a pitched battle.
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And then the nurses would be asking, “Hey, what are you doing?” Hope you get back into your stride, Lee. I know how hard it is with all of life’s interruptions, especially the BIG ones.
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Outside my writing door….hmmm, good question!
I have 2 toddlers, a husband, dog and a full-time job at a salon that I’m happy to say I just resigned from. Now, maybe, I can spend more time writing and playing with my girls before I blink and they’re married and gone!
Great question, Lee!
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I can relate as well. Not only the 2 cats in our house come over when I’m trying to write, but the dog as well. Opie, the little white kitty my son found at a local park 10 years ago, sits on an old radio a few feet from me and stares. Then she tries to act as though she really doesn’t care what I’m up to and begins grooming herself nonchalantly. Meanwhile, Elvis, the big orange tabby, leaps up onto a nearby table and meows, “Mrrow,” ‘Mrrow.” He kind of whirrs. It’s very rhythmic. As if that isn’t enough, Jax, the big black Lab mix, squeezes under the dining room table and moves from under my feet to on top of them! At least my human family lets me be. But it’s okay.
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Hey Lee, I wish I had the same things waiting outside my door that you. I work at a boarding school, so once that door opens I have 16-22 boys asking “what’cha doin’?” The best times for me to write right now is during the summer, but that ole fear and doubt seems to get through that closed door everytime. I will go through a good couple of weeks writing, then it all dries up. Starting up again gets harder as doubt pushes its way through little cracks in the doorway. After that, it becomes an herculean effort to get motivated again.
Peace and love,
Paula R.
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I think the assumption the outside world makes is, that writers do nothing but write. But we don’t, we deal with those everyday things like husbands, cats, kids, the dog, and our jobs, and whatever that brings. Writers actually have to squeeze writing in between all this, that’s why when we’re all rich and famous we’ll rent office space to write, and get peace.
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Lee,
How funny. We used to have cats who did the same thing. Why did they know about the delete key before I did?
I’m looking at a doe and her two fawns right now, and the big fat pears dropping on that old Nash Don sold to some guy from Austrailia for 500 bucks; who keeps coming by every 6 months or so to pull off a few parts. Who knew we were going to be his personal outdoor garage here in America?
I’ve got roosters in the yard telling me they’ve screwed something or they want to. Good day to write romance, right?
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Lee, you wrote what I’ve been thinking — though yours in much better — with these few variations: (1) it’s my WIFE who comes in to inquire what I’m doing, or who does ALL the house cleaning (that is done) right outside my study door, or who comes in to my study and plays FarmVille on my computer.
(2) here, it’s DOGS! One my wife bought at Wally World parking lot for $5, then a stray which wandered to our daughter’s house (but we keep him), then Mom-in-law’s dog who needs a home because wife’s Mom died in mid-July.
Other than that — our stories are identical.
Nobody who does not write can possibly understand what we go through.
Jeff
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