Time is a precious commodity. Especially when there isn't enough of it to go around.
I don't have much time to dust or garden and exercise (I know; I'm a slack writer).
Yesterday I found out that I have been awarded a writing grant from Creative NZ which will give me time: time to spend hours and hours needed to bang this last book into shape. I could pay for someone to come in and dust or garden or pay one of my girls to haul me out to write but, nope, not happening. I'm running away.
I've already booked my accommodation in Naseby to go to as a retreat where I will be free from domestics and distractions (including the internet because it takes quite an effort to connect up there - 2000ft above Stress level is Naseby;s logo). My plan is to write, walk, read, write, eat, write, walk, read, write, write. I will be on my own and free to get up at 2am if a scene grabs me and not feel bad about waking up the whanau (and be able to take a nana nap later that day).
I feel so utterly bestowed to have been given this lifeline - it is as if the gods have gone: oi, you, TK. How's about we throw down an extra ten hours in every day for the next two months - just for you? Cos we think you're worth it.
How did I celebrate? I bought chocolate for my students and running shoes for my eldest (yes, I get the irony). And, I planned my time off.
And, as to my plans for the next wee while - writing is it and reading.
What do I plan to read? Well, last week I moaned about a less than positive reading experience. This week I'm metaphorically banging my head on the desk because I'm reading Geraldine Brooks first novel: Year of Wonders. It. Is. Stunning! May I warmly recommend it to you: set in 1666....
Her style of writing is very different from mine: I'm sparse; she's opulent without being overwrought. I'm trying to move along action at the moment; she's showing me it's okay just to slow down and smell the hydrangeas.
Tomorrow, during my school's writing club get together, I'm going to focus on word choice because I have been so uplifted and replenished by Geraldine's writing, I have a craving for tasty words.
Six weeks till deadline (when the manuscript is due at the publishers). It feels like it does ten days out from a production - potential, chaos, exhaustion, excitement.
It will be (and always is) alright on the night.