Excuses, Excuses

I remember an episode of Donahue (who out there is old enough to remember Phil?) in which the guests recited a list of excuses for not having sex with your partner tonight ... set to Gregorian chant. Was it funny? Funny enough for me to remember all these years later, so yeah.

Every author or would-be author has a list of excuses for not writing: too busy, too tired, too damned uninspired (Rhyming! That’s even better than Gregorian chant!) Here are a few excuses I’ve relied on over the years:

·  Age 20: From the lips of John Irving’s character T.S. Garp, “Nothing’s happened to me yet – I have nothing to write about.”

·  Age 25, during a stint as a local news reporter: “I write all day at the newspaper – I have no creative energy for extracurricular writing.”

·  Age 30, as a wife and mother: “I have a job and two kids to look after – I have no time to write.”

·  Age 40, starting a new career in education: “Teaching and coaching drama suck up all my artistic oomph – there’s nothing left.”

·  Age 45: “I’m going through the change of life. [Yes! I went there! I have played the menopause card!] It’s got me too depressed and lethargic to write.”

·  In my childhood, my youth, my middle-age, my … well, you get the picture: “Other people are so much better at it than I am – I can’t compete.”

I could make myself or my readers feel guilty with stories of authors who had all these excuses … I mean ‘reasons’ … to not write, but who got the writing done anyway. We’ve all heard about people who worked grueling hours and raised a large family and still managed to crank out bestsellers. But that’s their story. This is mine.

      My kids are grown and my job is no more. A woman only goes through “the change” once, and I have done gone and changed. At this stage, I no longer care who’s better than I am – I can finally focus on how good I can be. There’s nothing to distract me. Maybe I had to have all my horses shot out from under me before I got down to work.  Time to roll up my sleeves and get ‘er done.