Isn’t she beautiful? (I agree – inside and out)
During my writing time this morning, this momentous occasion twigged me onto my personal need for creativity and the impact gestation of both the children and the books in my life has had on me.
How they’re alike:
Both bring out a range of emotions from grumbling discomfort to sharp pain, from flutters of excitement to downright whoops of joy. They stir up feelings of longing, projection and fulfillment. They take up residence in my head and heart for interminable leases. I have been by turns, embarrassed and proud of their performances.
How they’re different: (Yes it’s a silly exercise, but I’ve dragged you this far so I’m going to complete it)
I’d give my life for my kids, fierce mama lion that I am. The stories? I’ll fight hard for them, but certainly not at the same level. I’ve been a television producer, a weatherwoman, one of the best in my field as a voice actor and am becoming a damn good romance writer. Each and every one of these professional chapters has been enormously fulfilling, but pales compared to the joy and satisfaction of motherhood. The stories? I can control my characters, my plot and story arc, whereas I have had limited success controlling Lisa and Jennifer, and very early realized it is better for all involved if I simply shepherd and guide them.
What do you think? Is there method to my madness or have I gone (as friend and brilliant author of The Bride Gift, Sarah Hegger might be caught saying) “bat-shit crazy”? Well, there are all those voices in my head…