Warning: Written while sleep-deprived and revision-impaired. Do not operate heavy machinery while reading this post.

It’s tough to talk about struggling to find balance after Talia’s post yesterday. I would say Talia and I are on opposite ends of the spectrum. For the past year, I’ve had the privilege of writing full-time. Before I go any further, I want to reiterate that it is a privilege. I’m very fortunate. It might not always be this way, and I don’t for a moment take it for granted. Just over a year ago, I dreamt of being in this position. Dreamt about it. How many people can truly say they are living a dream?

When I say I write, “full time,” I mean it in a literal sense. For me, 2011 has been a sprint to complete Book One, and draft and revise Book Two. It’s been a year of blogging, struggling to blog, tweeting, learning to market, trying to stay organized, trying to process what’s happening, website… website… how hard is it to get a website together? Well, when you’re doing a gazillion other things, and you hit a patch of bad luck, it’s hard.

My days are spent in front of the computer, and much of the time, I feel the world blowing around me. Like Donna said, as a writer, I exist in my imagination. If any of you have read UNDER THE NEVER SKY, I exist in a Realm — the Realm of my story world. My kids are growing up in fast-forward. My friends say I have disappeared. My husband… he’s around here somewhere, isn’t he? And groceries? A home-cooked meal? Luxuries. There is no time, and there is far too much to do.

And yet, the writing Realm is a beautiful place to exist, so many hours of the day. You writers out there know how it feels to write a great description. Find that exact shade of emotion–that subtle nuance that makes a scene, or a moment pop. We create worlds when we write. We mold them and mull over them and mold again, and then stand back and say, yes. That is what I believe. That is what is true.


I struggle every day to look up from the screen. I struggle to find time for the writing things, and the family things, and everything else. But I accept that there is no perfect in real life. And I remind myself to enjoy the teetering, tottering balancing act. It’s the road, not the destination. The act of balancing, not balance itself. That is what I believe is true.