Dog tired

The good news is that Samson is the cutest puppy ever. He’s smart and affectionate and hilarious. Our family loves him and I’m sure he’ll grow up to be a great dog.

The bad news is that I’m sleep-deprived and cranky. My work schedule is shattered and my productivity has tanked.

I’ve been through worse, of course; I have twins! I know this is temporary. It’ll get better once Samson is housetrained and sleeping through the night. At the moment, though, I’m mired in frustration. All my carefully-established routines are out the window.

I’m trying to stay positive. I am getting some writing done everyday, so the novel is moving forward. I’ve been revising a short story for an upcoming contest. I also got an incredibly positive rejection letter for one of my older stories; the editor gave me specific feedback on the piece, signing off: “Best of luck with your writing, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble publishing your work elsewhere.”

If there’s one thing I’ve learned this year, it’s that I need to be more flexible. I need to accept that all my writing schedules and outlines and goals represent an idealized version of my time, an attempt to structure my inherently unpredictable, messy life.

For years, I kept this quote above my desk, and maybe it’s time to print it out again:

“A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word to paper.”

E.B. White