Let the revisions begin…

Today I am trying an amazing experiment. It’s possible that by doing so, my house might crumble and frogs might fall from the sky and a darkness might blanket the world for two eternities.

Today I am doing *my* stuff first. Which is to say, today, I am focusing on revising my novel. (Remember that thing? The first draft I finished way back in the spring?)

Most days, revision is on my to-do list, but way down at the bottom. Before I can get to it, I must first do all of my other writing, my chores, paperwork, scheduling, and everything else that keeps this busy household of six up and running. And by the time I do all that, I’m too fuzzy and tired to revise. Day after day, this is how it goes.

Because, isn’t that what grownups do? Get the work done before you can play?

So now it’s been six months and my manuscript just waits patiently, tucked away in its hard-drive bed, hoping that I’ll stop by and say hello. Maybe take it out for some fresh air and a good scrubbing. And every day I look at that little Scrivener icon on my desktop and say soon, soon, even as a part of me knows that today will not be the day. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after that.

Six months have gone by; six months that could’ve seen perhaps two rounds of revisions had I *made* the time instead of hoping that someone was going to give it to me, like a weekend pass to a theme park. Oh, I’ve picked at it here and there, brainstormed and got help from some terrific crit partners on where I needed to go and what I needed to do, but nothing substantial has been done.

I’m tired of the picking and the poking and the playing around.

Does it matter if the breakfast dishes (or the ones from last night’s dinner) don’t get done until I’m cooking tonight? That laundry waits for hours in the washing machine before it gets moved to the dryer? That paperwork piles up? Heck, no.

It sounds obvious, doesn’t it? It’s just that I don’t think that way. You first, me second — that’s how I usually roll. But, if I don’t make myself a priority some of the time, who will?

Moms tend to put everyone else first — we have to. It’s our job. But it’s easy to fall into a routine in which we put ourselves way down at the bottom of the never-ending list of stuff we have to do.

I hear my writer friends cheering in the background — today, the writing comes first. Today, darling family, my work is more important than your stuff.

Luckily, I’m pretty sure that everyone has clean underwear.