Now Playing: REMEMBER by Hans Zimmer
I've written two stories since becoming a dad!
It's funny how that moment so quickly became a demarcation--there was a life before I was a dad, and a life after. My son is only six weeks old tomorrow, but that short amount of time was enough to change everything around here. And I definitely like it this new way.
Having a newborn does wonders to your time, though. It's like a drain opened up and all my free time went spiraling into oblivion. Since I've started going back to work, I've had to really think about time as a much more limited resource, one which requires planning to use efficiently. I've tested it a few times to figure out how to squeeze in the writing.
So, the two stories I've written have been flash fiction--one 900-words, the other 1400-words. Figured I'd start small. I wrote them in my office while my son slept, or sitting beside my wife on the couch while the baby nursed. A few hundred words here, a few more there. I know lots and lots of professional writers get their fiction on paper with kids (and with a day job too!), so there's no reason I can't. But it takes some deliberate focus that I didn't necessarily need before.
I'm hopeful I will be able to keep up my goals of writing and submitting at least one story per month, and preferably two. I'm trying not to stress too much about it, though--I'm enjoying these fleeting newborn moments too much! But there's a part of me, always piping up in the background of my mind, that gets anxious when I don't write.
I'm reminded of a line from Hamilton: Why do you write like you're running out of time? I definitely feel that way sometimes, like writing is a desperate thing that has to be done before I can feel accomplished. If I don't do it now, it won't get done, and I won't be a writer because a writer writes, and that would be awful. It need to temper this feeling, so I can just enjoy myself and my son. The fiction will come.
Anyway, diaper change--gotta run!
