The Sandwich Occupation

You’ve heard of the sandwich generation. An entire generation (and generations to come) squeezed between taking care of aging parents and their own children. Full loads on both sides of running their own lives, including (usually) working full time jobs. They’re sandwiched between multiple slices of life, pressing down on them from every direction. A triple decker life sandwich, or more. 

If I had to give the occupation of writing a moniker, it would be the sandwich occupation. Let’s face it, this occupation (for most) does not afford us a life of luxury. And, even more realistically, often times, does not even pay the bills. Many aspiring writers have yet to make any money at all. But the call is still there, the drive, the passion. So we write. We don’t do it because we expect it to provide that life of riches, allowing us to live in huge houses and drive different fancy cars every day of the week. We do it because we love it. We do it because we can’t not do it. To not do it, would be like not breathing. Even though we don’t get paid to do that either, it must be done. So, we continue to slog to our “paying jobs,” squeezing in whatever precious time we can to devote to our true calling. Sandwiched in between all those other sandwich generation things, but adding one more layer, squeezing in the thing that calls to us most. Writing.

So, to all my fellow slices of ham, Tofurky, tomato, lettuce…may the thing calling to you like lungs call for air someday be the slice of life that pays your bills. 

Happy Writing!
Traci

Living the Dream (Temporarily)

I’ve been living my dream, truly, for the past week or so. I took time off work to give my writing undivided attention and loved not having to work it in around my “paying” job.

A normal, paying-job-day consists of trying to avoid interruptions during lunch long enough to at least get a new paragraph or two written. At times I’ve even slipped away to a closet where no one could find me. That worked, until they found me. In the evenings, I’ll squeeze in an hour or so between the suppertime and bedtime rituals. Weekends are tougher, things need caught up at home by then. Yet, I’ll usually huddle up at Starbuck’s or Barnes and Nobel with my laptop and a hot chocolate so I’m not tempted to dive into cleaning up the dust bowl that my home has become or I don't get pulled away by my dogs and their Frisbees and miss out on a precious full day devoted to the dream. The home and the dogs get squeezed in between the suppertime and bedtime rituals on weekends. My poor dogs. I owe them more exercise. I owe myself more exercise.

Oh, I’ll tease my co-workers that I’m living the dream there, but the comment is always accompanied by a sarcastically tone and an eye roll. The dream lives in this laptop, in those other worlds I’ve created. Worlds I can’t get back to fast enough, worlds I can’t wait to share.

On this, my last dream day before returning to work, my mood will drop lower and lower following the setting sun into a pit of darkness. First thing in the morning, I'll be back to the grind and to grabbing whatever precious time I can find to live my dream, if only in temporarily patches.

Happy Writing!

Traci

Not a New Year's Resolution

Many people make resolutions at the beginning of each year. Setting goals is a good thing (“spoken” by a list-checker), but why wait until the first day of a new year? I set goals all year, no matter what the date. On the top of my list for a while now has been to polish my manuscript, A Special Project (working title), find an agent and get that manuscript published. I’ve been challenged for over a year now to stay focused on that goal, but still managed to keep it in the crosshairs. The challenges? I’ve dealt with a nightmare government move to a new state and a new job, where I had to find and adjust to new everything. On top of that came the loss of my first grandbaby, which made all the rest seem like nothing.

On my first day in my new home in Moore, Oklahoma, after living in a hotel for a few weeks, the movers unloading my life into this new house couldn’t finish fast enough. A storm boiled on the horizon and they didn’t want to be anywhere near that city when it hit. I thought they acted a bit silly, it was only a storm, with some hail, maybe. But, I’d barely gotten the garage door closed when my daughter, who’d been there to help manage movers and box count, received a call from her husband saying a tornado had been confirmed to be on the ground in Moore. Everything I owned, my weather radio, my flashlights, everything, lay trapped in boxes somewhere in that house.

But, no problem, at least I had a shelter. Well, maybe one problem. I couldn’t figure out how to get the darn thing open. So, as the storm raged outside and the lights flashed on and off inside, my daughter, my two dogs and I huddle in the bathtub. Luckily, the tornado missed my new home by about a mile and no damage occurred—that would come from a tornadic storm in another couple months. That’s how my new life in Oklahoma began. And so it went.

As you can see, there have been challenges. Some greater than others, like the loss of little Lawson, but the goals remained: polish my manuscript, find an agent, get said manuscript published. After a re-write that started before I left Ohio and a couple rounds of critiques, the querying has begun. The timing just so happened to fall at the beginning of a new year, but querying has been on my radar for a while, just like the other goals mentioned. So, look out 2016, the culmination of these goals has been waiting for you!

Happy Writing!