Marrying a writer

So, you married yourself a writer, eh? You bought into the
romantic notion of the two of you sitting fireside, you drinking a glass of
pinot noir while your significant other sits beside you writing the next great
American novel. The only sound is the crackling fire and the tapping of their
keyboard. Every once in a while your significant other looks up from their
masterpiece and flashes you a smile that makes you feel like you’re the most
special person in the world. Your house is huge and your worries are small.

A slap to the face!

Think again. Unless you’re one of the lucky few who actually
make a living at their craft the reality is much different. My wife married me,
a writer, and let me tell you how it really is for her. I have a strict routine
which I follow daily. Any deviance from this routine and I feel disconnected
with the world and my place in it. This routine has been ongoing for fifteen
years now. I have been with my wife for sixteen years, so this is nothing new
for her. Every morning, after brushing my teeth, I fix a cup of instant coffee
and sit down in front of my computer. That’s how it is. That’s what I do. This
is my most creative time and I’m always at my best. This is when I write new
material and give old material a serious read. I must do this session alone,
which means no noise, or activity around me. My wife spends her mornings
upstairs alone, watching TV or getting ready for work. My writing usually lasts
about an hour and a half and when I’m finished, I immediately exercise for
another hour. At this point, my wife has started her day and is off somewhere
not to be seen until the evening hours. For me, depending upon if I’m working
my conventional job or not, the afternoon is spent marketing and promoting.
This aspect of being a writer is relatively new to me, since I’ve only been
doing it for about ten months now. I used to fill this time with querying
agents and publishers, but thanks to the digital revolution, these people are
no longer needed. My nights are spent jotting ideas and reading other people’s
books. Occasionally, my wife will sit beside me and also read a book.

Every month I get direct deposits from Kindle and various
other outlets, and I smile that at least I’m earning some money and people are
reading my stuff. But as far as that romantic notion I’d mentioned earlier, it
does exists, at times, but usually we’re both drinking pinot noir and there
isn’t any writing going on.

http://www.neilostroff.blogspot.com