So, I’ve been in school for about a year. I took four years off after I finished undergrad at UVA (Wahoowa!) to work a real job, get married, and move out of my mom’s house—not in that order. Then, last year, I started my MFA in creative writing. And for two semesters, I devoted my time and attention to a brand new YA project that I thought I was super passionate about.
Even as I was writing it, I could feel my attention slipping. It had nothing to do with my story—everything was planned out and I knew my characters better than anyone—but something was off.
Then we decided to have a kid. Our daughter’s due date was on the same day of the start of a new semester, so I spoke with my professors and they told me the best thing I could do was step back, have my child, and come back the following semester.
I gave birth seven weeks ago to the most beautiful little creature I’ve ever seen, and after a week of intense baby blues, I slid into my new role as parent fairly easily. Everything was a learning experience, and my teacher was pretty demanding.
But somewhere in that newly formed chaos, my creative brain was working. I suddenly remembered a novel I’d written in undergrad. It was terrible plot-wise, but my god did I love my characters. At the time, I shelved it knowing it wasn’t done but I didn’t have the skill to finish it. Then last night, I realized I did. I don’t know what needs to be done yet, but I know I can do it.
This resiliency, this novel instinct to try and then fail and then try again that bringing a child into the world has taught me, made me confident that I could do what undergraduate me couldn’t. And maybe in a few years, when I have a real published novel (fingers crossed) I’ll be homeschooling my daughter, embracing a new chaos, and revisit this past project and be ready again.
Writing Mami 