Last night I was having a moment. The ‘The End’ moment of a WIP I’ve been working on for close to two weeks now. The final battle, the exciting conclusion, the part where my two heroes end that particular story with a kiss. All the really fun stuff.
An hour. That’s all I wanted. One simple hour to wrap up all my hard work with a bow and set it aside for final drafting in a few weeks.
But no. The world invaded like a swarm of attention demanding poltergeist. I had fed the little creatures, cleaned the living room, made sure they did their homework and sat down and started to really get into all the fun little things that makes writing my addiction.
“Mom, where’s the juice?”
“In the pantry? What? You suddenly forget that’s where we keep the extra bottles?”
“There’s none in there.”
“Then we’re out.”
“Babe, where’s the hammer?”
*Uh-oh, not my clean living room.* “What are you doing?”
“You wanted me to swap out that bookshelf.”
*Peers into living room. Once beautifully clean, now cluttered with every DVD we own on the couches.*
I take a deep breath and go back to my room, closing the door firmly behind me. One hour to finish. That’s all I want.
Oh no. But yes. My nephew wants to stop by. He has something for his uncle, he’s bringing the baby.
I did mention every DVD we own strewn across the couches right? Well, add fresh cut shelves to that and a teen who can’t clean up his dinner mess to save his life.
Yeah. Just one hour. That’s all I wanted.
Insert mad dash to clean enough to have a 2 year old over. Dump mountain of DVD’s into a box, yell at teen to clean up his own damn mess and try to vacuum the bits of sawdust up off the carpet that the dear husband didn’t bother to wipe off the wood before bringing it into the house.
Someone should have been shot.
An hour later, nephew’s gone, baby’s gone, husband has abandoned his attempt to finish the shelves. At least the teen was wise and disappeared into the basement with the nearest computer.
“Babe, are you going to leave those DVD’s just laying in the box? Oh, and there’s sawdust all over the coffee table.”
Yes, he did say that. Yes, he was almost a dead man. He’s very lucky he was working midnights and had to go to work. I think I was plotting a painful death at that point.
One hour. That’s all I wanted.
It took me an hour just to get back into the swing of things, but by then, the story was done. The bow wasn’t as pretty as I had hoped, and a bit lopsided, but the draft was done. I keep thinking, if I had had that hour in the beginning the bow would have been straighter, or at least a prettier or maybe a little brighter. But oh well. No real life people were killed in making it. Though I think it was a close thing.
🙂 See you next week.