Molly visits and shares a moment in her real life.
Thanks for stopping by, Molly. I admire you for how you let Mama take over. I do not know how you write at all with small children.
*****
I am
writing this sitting at the dining room table. Just a few yards away my two
oldest kids, aged seven and four, are watching a movie in the living room. Even
though the volume is down relatively low, the superhero sound effects keep
distracting me; even more distracting is my son, who keeps padding over to me
every few minutes and requesting milk, or a snack, or to show me the kinetic
sand that somehow ended up between his toes. The baby is asleep upstairs, but
for how much longer?
Today is a
snow day—the
first of many to come, no doubt, here in icy, bitter northern Michigan. My
daughter is in second grade full-time, and my son has half-day preschool. I
planned to write this morning while my younger son napped before picking my
older son up a little before noon, but instead everyone is home and I’m trying to be both mother and writer
at once. And, as always seems to happen when I try to merge these two parts of
my life, I’m
failing at both. Every interruption jerks my focus away from the page, and
after each I have to drag my thoughts
back to where they were, a process that feels rather like slogging through the
knee-deep snow I can see outside. Irritation prickles, followed by a deluge of
guilt—guilt
for being irritated, guilt for wanting a room of my own (or at least a seat by
myself at a coffee shop), guilt for the mindlessness of the film I’m letting my kids watch when I feel I
should be reading to them, or building block forts, or chasing them through the
high-piled snow.
The mental
energy that goes into parenting somehow seems to leave little room for the
mental energy I need to write. When my daughter was born, I stayed home with
her and stopped writing entirely for months. From the time I was very young,
writing was a compulsion I had to obey, but when I became a mother my brain
became a tired mush of postpartum hormones and the Itsy-Bitsy Spider, and the
part that once swirled with stories grew stagnant. A couple of times in those
early days I tried to shut myself and my computer away upstairs for half an
hour or so while my husband and daughter stayed downstairs; but even through
the two floors between us I could hear her when she cried—my laboriously-gathered thoughts
scattering, my milk letting down.
Finally,
when she was six or seven months-old, I ventured, tentatively, back out into
the world on my own. The fourth trimester had extended longer than I expected—she cried with near-constancy, her
needs utterly overwhelming my own—but now, at last, I could feel myself
emerging from the cocoon of early motherhood, happy to find my self
still existed outside of it. I started taking myself off to a coffee shop on
Sundays, getting there when they opened and staying progressively later as the
months passed, spending a small fortune that we didn’t have on coffee and pastries so as
not to be a freeloader. Sunday has been my day now for six-and-a-half years,
through a major move from one part of the country to another (trading one cozy
coffee shop for a new one) and the births of my two sons: restoring, necessary
time that is also liberating. I am an adult among other adults, a person in my
own right and not just Mama. I come home restored, the pressure of the
stories in my head eased by their transference to the page.
Lately,
though, I’ve
needed extra time. My first book, The Clergyman’s Wife, created over a year of Sunday
writing sprints, is out this year, and I’m finishing work on another.
Suddenly, writing is no longer something I do only for myself, and lately—like today—I’ve found myself trying to squeeze
writing time into my daily routine when my older kids are at school and my
youngest is asleep. It’s not ideal, though—I need sustained chunks of time when
I’m
working on a story. My brain feels like it’s comprised of multiple layers, and
the mothering layer needs to be sloughed off before I can really get into the
rhythm of my work.
Although I
suppose “sloughed
off” isn’t quite right, really, for the part
of me that identifies as Mama is never entirely gone, no matter how
physically far from my children I am. Mama shows up in my stories; even
when they are not explicitly about motherhood, Mama thinks about her
characters as they relate to their children, their parents, how one generation
influences the next and the next and the next. Mama wondered what sort
of father Pride and Prejudice’s Mr. Collins would be; whether, and how much, the
absurdly self-centered Lady Catherine de Bourgh might actually worry about her
sickly daughter. Mama is the part of me who lost five babies in the
early months of pregnancy, and this has colored my stories, as well.
And, of
course, Mama understands the impossible tension of trying to be fully
present for my children and for my stories. My son came up to me again
just now, put his head on my lap, clutched at my leg with both hands. The movie
is almost over. The idea I was chasing vanished, like a candle flame snuffed
out.
“I want you,” he said.
“I want you, too.” Absolute truth, and yet, at this
exact moment between sentences, also exactly the opposite.
But when I
said it, he smiled.
Time to stop
writing, just for now; time to let Mama take over again. I tell myself—even though, sometimes, it’s not entirely true—that the story will still be there
tomorrow.
*****
ABOUT THE BOOK
For everyone who loved Pride and Prejudice—and legions of historical fiction lovers—an inspired debut novel set in Austen’s world.
Charlotte Collins, nee Lucas, is the respectable wife of Hunsford’s vicar, and sees to her duties by rote: keeping house, caring for their adorable daughter, visiting parishioners, and patiently tolerating the lectures of her awkward husband and his condescending patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Intelligent, pragmatic, and anxious to escape the shame of spinsterhood, Charlotte chose this life, an inevitable one so socially acceptable that its quietness threatens to overwhelm her. Then she makes the acquaintance of Mr. Travis, a local farmer and tenant of Lady Catherine.
In Mr. Travis’ company, Charlotte feels appreciated, heard, and seen. For the first time in her life, Charlotte begins to understand emotional intimacy and its effect on the heart—and how breakable that heart can be. With her sensible nature confronted, and her own future about to take a turn, Charlotte must now question the role of love and passion in a woman’s life, and whether they truly matter for a clergyman’s wife.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Molly Greeley earned her bachelor’s degree in English, with a creative writing emphasis, from Michigan State University, where she was the recipient of the Louis B. Sudler Prize in the Arts for Creative Writing. Her short stories and essays have been published in Cicada, Carve, and Literary Mama. She works as on social media for a local business, is married and the mother of three children but her Sunday afternoons are devoted to weaving stories into books.
ABOUT THE BOOK
For everyone who loved Pride and Prejudice—and legions of historical fiction lovers—an inspired debut novel set in Austen’s world.
Charlotte Collins, nee Lucas, is the respectable wife of Hunsford’s vicar, and sees to her duties by rote: keeping house, caring for their adorable daughter, visiting parishioners, and patiently tolerating the lectures of her awkward husband and his condescending patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Intelligent, pragmatic, and anxious to escape the shame of spinsterhood, Charlotte chose this life, an inevitable one so socially acceptable that its quietness threatens to overwhelm her. Then she makes the acquaintance of Mr. Travis, a local farmer and tenant of Lady Catherine.
In Mr. Travis’ company, Charlotte feels appreciated, heard, and seen. For the first time in her life, Charlotte begins to understand emotional intimacy and its effect on the heart—and how breakable that heart can be. With her sensible nature confronted, and her own future about to take a turn, Charlotte must now question the role of love and passion in a woman’s life, and whether they truly matter for a clergyman’s wife.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Molly Greeley earned her bachelor’s degree in English, with a creative writing emphasis, from Michigan State University, where she was the recipient of the Louis B. Sudler Prize in the Arts for Creative Writing. Her short stories and essays have been published in Cicada, Carve, and Literary Mama. She works as on social media for a local business, is married and the mother of three children but her Sunday afternoons are devoted to weaving stories into books.
*****
Thanks for visiting my blog, Molly. I wish you the best with your new book. It sounds lovely. I have always wished that Charlotte could have had love in her life. Maybe you will make my wishes come true for Charlotte.
This was an interesting post. I can only imagine the many challenges of writing with young children in the house. I only had one, and even though fully grown, my daughter fights for my attention at times! Congratulations on your book, Molly!
ReplyDeleteI can't imagine it. It would have to be difficult! Thanks for stopping by, Kelly.
DeleteI too hope Charlotte can find love. I never know what is the most satisfying resolution though so I shall be reading your book to find out!
ReplyDeleteGood poing, Izabel. It will be interesting to find out, won't it!
DeleteWow, it is really a commitment when their are young children in the factoring of a writer's life. Thanks for sharing, Molly. Your book looks great.
ReplyDeleteIt seems like it would be a huge commitment! I admire any young writing mother.
DeleteLife certainly sounds busy,writing and being a mom to young children.
ReplyDeleteThis book’s premise has a interesting. I often wonder how Charlotte survived married to one such as Mr Collins.
It must have been suffocating,demeaning and only bearable when oft reminded of the alternative.
How will Charlotte deal with her feelings for Mr Travis? Will being seen,heard and appreciated for her own unique traits bring joy or that heavy sadness when one wonders what could have been,if circumstances were different.
Yes,definitely good for thought.
I wish you luck in your future writing projects,Molly.
Janet,thank you for hosting.
Life certainly sounds busy,writing and being a mom to young children.
ReplyDeleteThis book’s premise has a interesting. I often wonder how Charlotte survived married to one such as Mr Collins.
It must have been suffocating,demeaning and only bearable when oft reminded of the alternative.
How will Charlotte deal with her feelings for Mr Travis? Will being seen,heard and appreciated for her own unique traits bring joy or that heavy sadness when one wonders what could have been,if circumstances were different.
Yes,definitely good for thought.
I wish you luck in your future writing projects,Molly.
Janet,thank you for hosting.
What a different and excellent post - a rare, intimate glimpse into the world of a mother of young children and a writer at the same time. It reminded me of days gone by when mine were little and the endless demands of motherhood were competing with the desire for self-expression. Congratulations on finishing your novel and being Mama.
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