I have been working on my novel for the better part of two years, while holding down a challenging full-time day job. A lot of writers have done it or are still doing it. I’m no different from them. This is the reality I live in.
What it means, however, is that if I want to write, I have to do it in the evenings, when most people are settled in front of the television, winding down for bed. I used to be one of those, and I used to go to bed early, but to build in time to write in the evenings, I’ve had to train myself to stay up longer.
Weeknights the routine is to come home, have dinner and spend time with the husband, then go to my office to write for 2-3 hours. Most days, the latter part doesn’t happen until 8 p.m., which is a struggle, but still doable. If I work normal hours, I can usually make it until Thursday before I get too exhausted to think.
Not so these past few weeks.
The beginning of the year is always a busy one for me; this year seems doubly so. That means days spent hyperfocused to ensure everything gets done, and much longer hours, which translates to less energy at night.
Tonight, I had energy up until I sat down at the desk. Suddenly, it was gone. I haven’t given up for the night yet, but boy, would I like to.
Wish me luck. Happy writing.