Writing Freedom

I find so little time to write, much less to blog, these days. But with today being Independence Day, it seems appropriate to jot down a few remarks (or as many as I can before the babies arise.)

I was on the train the other day when an old friend said hello as we headed into our stop. I'd been writing on the train and was off in my own world, but I'd been writing about something that had angered me. She asked how my novel was going, and I explained that since the girls were born I'd had very little time to write. Yesterday, while taking the girls out for a stroll, I met a neighbor I'd only spoken with on the phone. I knew she was a writer — a playwright — and our conversations had almost always been about writing. Like my friend on the train, she said that I would have very little time these next couple of years in which to write.

I think I'll find the occasional moment to write, but I don't think I have the time currently to pursue an agent for my finished work. It's not merely the pursuit; if I actually got a bite, I'd not have enough time to respond appropriately.

It's frustrating, but the reality is that we only have so much time, and I already don't have enough time to spend with my girls. But the time I spend I hope is of quality.

Happy birthday, America. May your many wonderful freedoms continue, including the freedom to speak one's mind, to write one's thoughts, to pray to one's God — all without fear of being imprisoned for doing so.