Novels

It's very easy and right for me to say, in my current situation, that I can't write a novel. I have two children. One is three and the other is seven and homeschooling. I also have a husband and I like to have conversations with him. I have sewing projects I want to finish. I volunteer to do things for my son's various teachers. I am supposed to be improving my brain by reading. I am supposed to be learning Spanish. Recently I learned to knit socks. Maybe I should become very good at that. Writing a novel takes a lot of time. Any time I use for writing is time taken away from something else, possibly more virtuous or urgent. Sock knitting is a bad example. A better example is the South America curriculum I have been working on for two years. That should really get finished, no joke.

I have managed to write two novels since I got pregnant with my first child. They were both written, or should I say generated, in Novembers. Neither one has my jumping out of my chair with love and loyalty.

I'm writing a new novel now. During the regular year, not during the November panic. Periodically I want to think on it or work on it but I'm in the middle of doing something else. Periodically my husband gives me a few hours without children to write and think. This way of writing is better. It takes more time and is slower, but it is producing better results.