Weekend writers don't have the luxury of sitting at their computers for hours on end. Our day jobs eat up the weekdays. Writing has to be worked into a schedule that includes household chores, errands that can't be accomplished during the workweek, and a never ending list of commitments outside of the house. I am hoping one day to be a full time writer, but for now I battle through days at the office and leave the writing to an occasional hour in the evening and every chunk of the weekend I can grab.
This weekend has been an exception to the normal craziness of trying to make everything else in my life work in a way that leaves me time to write. The snow outside keeps would-be visitors at home. Hobbling around on crutches with a locked brace on my left leg prevents much housework. This weekend, I get to devote most of my time to writing.
My spouse kindly read a couple chapters aloud for me this morning. I love it when I can just sit there and listen to the flow of words, pausing only when something strikes my ear wrong. Together, we marked corrections and talked about possible changes.
It is wonderful when I get to sit around in my PJ's with my feet up and plot, write, edit, or attack any of those other tasks that make ideas into books. Today, a bowl of popcorn, a mug of hot chocolate, and a stack of chapters to edit will soon be waiting by my recliner. This is a day to remember.
I wish every weekend could be this relaxed and this productive, though I could do without the injured leg. Unfortunately, in the life of a weekend writer this is the exception to the rule. There are a dozen other demands on my time lurking in the background: promotional events for my current book are on the calendar, as are important family obligations. The chores I'm putting off until I recover from my little surfing accident will catch up with me. It isn't all working in my PJ's, but I am going to make the most out of today.