This is how mountains are made

You have a night in whilst your partner is at a Parents Association Crafts Evening (she’s headed out of the door, Captain Oates-like, clutching a bottle of Spanish red wine ten minutes previously).

You are going to dig out the most recent draft of your novel, which has been gathering dust for four years, and work on it.  You have the folder of the chapters you’re going to revise.  It’s yellow.  You have a highlighter and a favourite gel-ink pen (black) ready to hand.  Firstly, though, you have to check your mail.  Then you need to find some music to listen to.  Then there ar those pictures you took earlier that you really ought to process as a kind of warm-up exercise for doing something creative.

This is interrupted by Little Elf wailing for thirty seconds, enabling you to spend ten minutes wondering if she’s going to wake up.

Oops!  You’re supposed to at least fill the washing machine (children really do devour an awful lot of clothes).  You fill it and realise you’ve forgetten to eat.  You spend spend thirty minutes dithering about not cooking anything too complicated then have spaghetti and a sauce out of a bottle.  Then you feel guilty because you haven’t done any yoga.

It’s ten o’clock.  Possibly you could revise a chapter whilst watching Doctor Who at the same time.  Dudelet resolves the dilemma by waking up and howling and moaning and telling you to go away for ten minutes until he relents and let’s you carry him to the toilet.

You’re definitely watching Doctor Who after that.  And you’re sure you can read through a chapter at the same time.

Eleven.  Possibly not.

Eleven thirty.  You’re holding the unopened yellow folder on your lap when you hear the front door open.

Well, Doctor Who was very good.

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About Dad Who Writes (Gabriel)

Writing, reading, listening, parenting... On Twitter as @dadwhowrites. View all posts by Dad Who Writes (Gabriel)

11 responses to “This is how mountains are made

  • nonlineargirl

    I am amazed how quickly an evening flies by, leaving in the dust my good intentions to get things done.

  • bsouth

    Oh my, that sounds familiar!

  • J

    Crap. Yes, extremely familiar. It’s amazing how much OTHER stuff I get done whilst procrastinating. 🙂

  • Gumbomum

    Sigh. I know exactly what you’re talking about.

  • phoenixaeon

    Yep. I know how that feels. Except it’s not Doctor Who for me at the moment, but Supernatural. And when Princi wakes up and finds me working during the night, she insists on staying up to help me. Not so much help, really, this little sitting, hugging monster clamped onto my side, drooling on my shoulder. And don’t get me started on the sleep talking!

  • dadwhowrites

    Glad I’m not the only one, folks! And I’ve just gone and done it again (though at least I got a little bit of yoga done. And replied to some comments…) Oh, and if it wasn’t Dr Who, it’d be Battlestar Galactica. We’ve currently got a sleep screaming problem, actually. But that’s another story.

  • openpalm

    it’s not procrastination…it’s something about interior stance. how rested or strong or curious or playful. but it’s at a level below the dishes and laundry, don’t you think, and takes some willingness to sink down into it. I say this after not writing for over a year…and suddenly now i am, and it feels so much better…but it takes dropping by son at his dad’s sunday morning and going to the cafe church with my laptop and opening it and setting down the first keystroke. that’s all it takes…although i never ever believe that’s possible. Dr. Who? someimtes, and especailly at 11:30 pm, whyever not?

  • dadwhowrites

    Tomorrow. Tomorrow! Cos right now, it’s 11pm…

  • Achelois

    Time only flies when you are older. As kids, it crawled. Homework took forever, and now there is no time for homework.

  • henitsirk

    We’re supposed to stay in the moment, right? Seems like that takes a lot of advanced planning, these days.

  • dadwhowrites

    And this is supposed to be the blog I keep regularly! Planning is completely beyond us at the moment…

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