I’ve been talking to an agent about my next book, and the experience has made me realize something. Actually, two things.
One, given my full-time life, a book isn’t something I can write. I had to organize my entire life around my first book to get it done; and at least until Daniel is old enough to go to nursery school, I have too many other major demands to maintain the kind of selfish focus (that’s not meant in a bad way; it’s just the best term I can come up with) required to do a large project.
Second, that’s not a bad thing. There’s still lots of other stuff I’ve got going that suit the fractured time I have: articles that flow from my day job, various freelance pieces, possibly even some semi-regular pieces for a technology magazine. I don’t lost social capital at work by not having a giant, non-work related project in my life. And honestly, the other things that occupy me– in particular being a parent to two young children– are infinitely more important than that imagined empty space on my shelf.
As Sandra Day O’Connor (who spent ten years raising her children before returning to the law) once said, you can do it all, just not all at the same time.
Time to pick up Elizabeth from her ballet class.