I am routinely asked how it is that I find the time to write.
It's not an illogical or a particularly invasive question. I'm a mother, a wife, a student, a daughter, a sibling. Like everyone else, I am busy. Writing takes a lot of focus and time, and I have neither at my disposal. At least not in any wasteful amount. My children come before anyone and anything else, and I make that known to everyone who does and does not ask, so how is an understandable line of questioning. However, I would rather approach it as a why question. Because the "how" is easy-I carve out twenty minutes here, ten minutes there, I work in whatever small chunks of time and opportunity I have. I scribble notes in notebooks and type in keywords into my phone. I do what I can and when I can. Like everyone else. I don't sleep nearly as much as I would like. And my house is not as organized as I wish it would be. Because the few minutes I do have, I would honestly rather spend writing than color coordinating incoming mail. This is "how."
It's hard not to lose yourself in your responsibilities. Life is fast and life is hard. That's the beauty of it, if you're an optimist. On an average day, we forget to drink the requisite amount of water let alone what we wanted to be when we grow up. I don't do girls nights out or spa weekends; that is not my family dynamics. I don't have much down time. So when my house is quiet, I get to escape into myself. Writing is that magical "me" time. It is my therapy. It's important for me to be able to get lost in a fictional world of my own creation, where the characters I penned drive the dialogues. When I don't get to write, a part of me feels like it's missing. I am down and irritable. Beware! Even if it's something I will never use in any publication, even it is something not a single soul will ever read, my pencil has to touch paper, my fingers have to dance across the keyboard. High school through law school, when I wasn't taking notes on the digestive system or the dormant commerce clause, respectively, I was writing. I still do-on the school steps waiting for my child after school, at my desk while my professor is firing up her projector. This is the "why." And the "why" informs the "how." My novels take me a very long time precisely because of the time constraints my life imposes on me, my focus wavers along the road, but I still choose to do it. I'm no superhero. I'm certainly no role model. I write because I want to. It's my inherently selfish act.
So welcome to my website. And welcome to my blog! Essays, book reviews, and author interviews are to come. Please stay tuned and bring your friends.
-Marina