This is the first in our special series of posts, all entitled ‘A Day In The Life Of’. We’ll follow different authors as they go about a normal–for a writer!–day. So let’s welcome Trish Marie Dawson as she fights applesauce and the FBI, just to get to her current WIP.
*Yawn* It’s Saturday morning and do I get to sleep in? Of course not. Because like every weekend, the four year old decides to wake up with the sun and sneak into the living room, where I’ll find him standing on the counter and digging through the cupboards for treats. I roll over and poke the man snoring beside me, but he only groans in protest and rolls over. Dad’s not getting up.
If I squeeze my eyes shut for a few more seconds, I can almost pretend like I’m asleep – until the cat jumps onto my face to say good morning. At this point it’s useless to deny my full bladder a reprieve, so to the bathroom I go. The cat follows, as he does every morning, as if he doesn’t know what I could possibly be doing in there.
The first screams and hollers of the day come from the other room, after the nine year old has denied the four year old access to his favorite morning cartoon. Or perhaps she has sat on his face in an attempt to keep him from sticking his tongue into her third bowl of cereal. I curse as I trip across the laundry on the floor and the size 13 shoes, even though there is a perfectly good laundry basket and closet nearby, to hurry down the hall, weaving around matchbox cars and small toys that have escaped the kids’ rooms. The cat jogs next to me, dodging my slapping feet on the hardwood, coming precariously close to getting stepped on more than once.
I’m still rubbing the sleep from my eyes when the living room comes into focus, and I find the kids sitting on the couch, happily eating out of a carton of ice cream. After confiscating the contraband, the four year old throws himself on the floor screaming and kicking, and the nine year old pouts. I have to nag her to feed the animals and let the dog out to pee. Both cats scream at me for breakfast as I make my way through the room, picking up various items that were left out the day before, including two ties, someone’s bath towel, laundry that was folded and dumped onto the floor so the four year old could play in the basket, random dishes, pencils and papers and textbooks and a plastic toy plane that’s affixed to the ground by something sticky. This is when I remember we are out of paper towels.
When I do make it to the kitchen, I see that the kitchen fairy has skipped my house the night before. I grumble a string of curse words as I pull my favorite mug out of the dishwasher and discover it died during the wash cycle. I wash my mug, rather than get a clean one, because it has my Beauty and the Beast character on it and makes me happy when I sit down at the computer. And then I wash the dishes, because there’s nothing clean to stir my coffee. Explains why the kids were eating ice cream with measuring spoons.
One hour later I’m at the computer. The news is on CNN despite groans from the kids. But I don’t care because this is my time to figure out my schedule for the day. Email – check. Amazon Reports – check. Separate the fighting children – check. Facebook – check. Take the light saber away from the boy before he whacks the dog with it – check. Back on Facebook to check messages and share pictures of cute cats – check. Enroll myself in Pinterest Anonymous – check. Open up Word and decide which WIP I’m in the mood to work on – check. Settle the nine year old down at the table for the fifth time with her school books on a weekend because she didn’t want to do it the day before – check. Open up a separate window on the internet to browse for research on how to turn the safety off a gun, and hope that the FBI is not monitoring my computer surfing – check. Explain why cats don’t like being squirted with water guns or used as pillows – check. Talk shop with the M-7 Authors as they go about their days – check. Take the light saber away from the four year old – again – check. Explain that cats have nipples – check.
After a whopping ten minutes of all of that – I’m ready to settle in and do some writing while the Muse is around. At least another hour passes of me getting up and down – tending to children, animals and chores before I can write. Taking breaks to homeschool, referee and prepare meals, I nearly die twice after slipping in applesauce and a puddle of juice that was left on the kitchen floor. By the time early afternoon arrives, my Muse has become a nag and I can’t find my left flip-flop though it was JUST on my foot. During quiet time I hammer out what I can – editing will come later. Realizing I need to know how an inexperienced person would stitch up a knife wound, I Bing it and then look over my shoulder for the FBI again. In a moment that can only be considered paranoia-induced, I email a writer friend and ask that they delete my browsing history when I die.
Dinner comes and goes in a blur. Bedtime arrives even faster. Probably because I know there’s Moscato in the fridge and chocolate in the cupboard. After the kids have been tucked in and the four year old has been carried back to his room five times, I finally sit back down at the computer to do it all over again.
When the house is truly quiet, I attack the DVR like there’s no tomorrow and weep softly on the couch when I realize the chocolate was eaten yesterday. With a sigh, I pet the cat and stare blankly at the TV. Tomorrow is Sunday, which means I get to do this all over again. But I will do it gladly because I’m a Mom and I’m a Writer. It’s just what I do.
-Trish Marie Dawson
Trish was born and mostly raised in San Diego, California where she lives now with her family and pets. She’s been writing short stories and poetry since high school after an obsession with Stephen King’s ‘The Stand’. After over fifteen years of crazy dreams and an overactive imagination, Trish began her first book ‘I Hope You Find Me’ in December of 2011. When Trish isn’t writing, she’s homeschooling her amazing daughter and mildly autistic son, reading whatever she can get her hands on, or enjoying the Southern California sun. As a strict Vegetarian, Trish holds a special place in her heart for animal rights and dashes into the backyard weekly to rescue lizards and mice from her mini-lab/cocker spaniel mixed dog, Zoey…who is always getting into some sort of trouble.
I Hope You Find Me (2012)
Dying to Forget (2012)
Dying to Remember (2012)
Hawke & the Beast – Once Upon A Twisted Time (2012)
LOST and FOUND (2013)
The Well Collector (2013)
Dying To Return – Book 3 of The Station Series (Summer 2013)
Behind the Glass
The Last Faerie of Failynn