Tuesday, June 30, 2009
by CiCi Barnes
It’s June 30th, the end of our wedding blogs. We’ve planned, we’ve laughed over snafus, we’ve made it through walking down the aisle and taking the vows. Our bloggers have shared their ups and downs, compared the whole shebang to writing and our lovely followers have added their spice to the mix and we thank you. I feel it appropriate to talk about the rest of the story.
What comes next?
Of course, after the wedding and reception, comes the honeymoon, whether it take place in a motel 20 miles down the road, a Caribbean cruise, a cabin in Gatlinburg, Tenn, or a condo at the beach. It doesn’t really matter where you are. You’ve started a new life with the man of your dreams. The landscape while you’re honeymooning is inconsequential. The time spent in euphoria for those few days lives with you in your happy place for a lifetime. The love, the perfect bliss, the exploration of two minds and bodies melding to one.
Then you come home.
Mortgages, jobs, insurance, in-laws, toothpaste tubes squeezed from the top, wet towels on the bathroom floor, and dirty, smelly socks by the bed. You’re not in each others arms in wedded bliss every second of the day and evening. You come home from work, tired and numb. There’s dinner to fix, dishes to wash, clutter to put in it’s place. The cute puppy you just had to have to make your little home complete has pooped and peed in five different places around the house while you earned money to buy outrageously-priced dog food to suit his delicate tummy so he could poop and pee some more. We won’t even speak of the pitter-patter of little feet to come.
The honeymoon is over. Life has blossomed and taken control.
So goes the way of entering into the wedded bliss of writing.
You cross the threshold into the world of words, pecking out ideas that have sprouted in your mind. You’ve researched and found a glorious group of other writers working toward the same goal. Some have achieved that goal and are gracious enough to help you do the same. Others have just started out and are desperate to commiserate with those in the same position. It’s still new, exciting, fun, and you love the challenge.
You’re in love with writing. The honeymoon has begun. Maybe you transformed a spare bedroom into an office. Hubby supported your interest and outfitted the room with a brand new desk, a standout computer and all the little essentials. Maybe you scraped by to save money for a small laptop, or even to buy notebooks and pens to write the old-fashioned way. It doesn’t matter. Ideas are blooming, words are flowing. You’ve joined the world of writers and love the camaraderie.
Before you know it, the honeymoon is over. The computer crashes, swallowing up your precious words, digesting them into the great beyond. You’ve sent out your work to a contest only to be told you’ve done nothing right. Your critique partner constantly points out places in your manu where you are telling and not showing, and somehow you can’t seem to grasp the difference.
The daily grind of writing creeps in. Outside life want to take over, but you know you must persevere. The euphoric edge wanes.
Just as in the daily grind of marriage, there are spikes and perks of that wonderful glow of love. Your hubby takes you on a vacation, just the two of you, or a night out on the town. He does little things around the house without you asking, to show how much he cares. He compliments your looks.
Writing sends you to a conference to hobnob with the published, to learn the difference between show and tell, to hear other writers with the same problems you’ve experienced and how they conquered them – or if not conquered, coped. Hopefuls just like you get ‘the call’ and bounce around like Tigger on his coiled tiger tail.
You know the work and valleys are worth the peak that sits there waiting for you to complete the climb. You can deal with the bad days, because you know the good days are heaven on earth.
The honeymoon doesn’t have to be over. You can live it with your hubby and your writing everyday in some small way . . . or big! Just vow to make the honeymoon last. In your marriage and your writing.
I leave you with that thought. Words are whispering sweet nothings in my ear.