Do you want to know how hard it is to write when there are endless familial distractions around you?
Especially if you’re trying to write romantic, sexy scenes?
Maybe writing romantic fiction isn’t in the cards for me after all. 🙄
I’m in my little corner on the main floor. If at least one person is home, chances are they’re also on the main floor.
It’s pretty here, nicer than in the basement – bright, sun-filled (if there’s sun), open concept, access to kitchen (food, drink), big screen TV, comfy couch etc.
I face a wall in my little corner, next to a window which lets in afternoon sun. My laptop is lifted to eye level on some contraption my partner bought for himself but isn’t using, so I installed it on my desk. This helps me with keeping my back/neck straight.
I sit here while I read, write and edit my stories. Like this:
She makes a decision. One that is out of character for her, and completely out of her comfort zone.
She announces that the tub looks really inviting and she’s going to soak in it.
“It’s been a long day not without stress. I’m going to relax in this tub before dinner,” she says and looks at him.
I turn my head. What the hell just happened?
Oh, he is loading something into the dishwasher and a stack of some dishes must have tipped over.
I sigh, go back to my story, and try to immerse myself back into the current scene.
She turns on the water in the tub and leaves him standing there as she heads toward her luggage in the bedroom.
“I’m going to change,” she simply says and avoids over-thinking the situation.
He’ll either leave, or stay, she tells herself and gets on with the business of undressing.
There’s another loud noise coming from the kitchen.
This time it’s the kettle. He’s boiling water for the French press.
Blah. It’s hard to concentrate when there’s all this activity going on behind me…
I start to fantasize about having a She Shed in my backyard…
He looks at me and can tell I’m irritated.
“I’m going to work in the office downstairs,” he tells me as he continues making his coffee.
Fine. That works for me. I go back to my story.
She wonders what she’ll find when she gets back to the bathroom.
What she finds is him already in the tub.
She stands on the edge and watches him watch her.
She asks him how it feels, in there.
He likes it, he says.
She hesitates. She has nothing on besides the robe. He’s almost certainly naked.
There’s another noise. WTF now?
His phone. He immediately answers it and puts it on speaker phone.
He’s a pacer. He paces around the entire main floor where my writing corner is, while talking to whomever on speaker phone. The half-finished coffee is on the counter…
This is the time when I yearn for a bigger house, or at least another room where I could go to and close the door.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame him for wanting to be up here doing stuff, I am just annoyed that I have no place to escape to.
And sharing his office space downstairs is not an option, I’m a minimalist and he’s…the opposite of a minimalist. 🙂
It’s worse when the kids are here. Plus, anyone could stand behind me and read over my shoulder. Which is not what I want some impressionable teens to do at the moment… 😂
The other option is to put a headset on and listen to some music, but this doesn’t always work pending the type of writing I do. Blogging, for example, is easier to do with music in my ears. When I’m writing hot tub scenes however, I don’t want any noises distracting my, um, visuals… 🙃
I desire for absolute silence. 😛
My other problem is that my time to write is rather limited. Usually a couple of hours after the kids leave for school in the morning and before I head out to walk my dogs (a little side business I have running in the neighbourhood) is my optimal time to write. Between 9ish to 11ish…
This works mostly if everyone is out of the house for the morning. Given the flexible schedule my partner has, this only happens a couple to three times a week.
I mean, I make it work anyway, but it’s just a little bit more challenging to concentrate when he has a work from home day…
Maybe I just have to find another place to write. Maybe the bedroom? On the bed, propped up against the pillows, with my laptop on my lap?
This isn’t going to work for posture…
Me and my petty little problems.
Tell me about your writing space and time. Am I the only one who’s challenged with this unique set of problems?