Words written in novel so far: 14,696
Miles run yesterday: 4.5
Days of school until summer: 2 1/2
I can’t lie and say I never got bored as a child, mostly because my mom would shout to the world, “LIAR!”
But even with all of the free time in the summer, I remember being bored less during those long, lazy days.
Some years, I was in daycare, roller skating to Kool & The Gang and The Beatles. I was all about the disco ball but unfortunately never mastered skating backwards with proficiency.
On hot afternoons, we sat under trees on the playground and French-braided each other’s hair.
When I got a little older, I owned time. Time had no value or boundaries, and I rolled around in it, let it spill over me in an abundance I would never know again.
I love the pool; we used to spend hours there and never got bored. I love to read; just lying on my bed with nothing to do but read The Once and Future King was my idea of heaven.
But one of my favorite things was when my friend and I would say, “We’re bored! What can we do?” and her mom, who looked like a Skipper doll and often burst out into “It’s My Party and I’ll Cry if I Want To,” would say, “Get in the car.”
She had a little white car (make and model unknown; see why here), and we would stretch out in the hatchback section and close our eyes.
“Here we go!” she would sing out.
My friend and I would pay attention to each turn: left on Emory, right on Holt, right into the high school parking lot… no, maybe that was the next right, into the church. Dangit!
Once you got off track, it was impossible to salvage the Navigation Game. But we tried. Oh boy, did we try.
Summer is here again. I want those fun memories for my kids. And I also want to write my novel and see its progress… I want happy memories of this summer for me, too.
As a fiction writer, they say there are two types of writers: the Outliners and the Pantsers (as in Seat of Your Pants).
I’m a Pantser for the most part. I have an idea of where the plot is going, but I’m always sad when I see that something bad has to happen to one of my beloved characters.
I’m in the backseat, eyes closed, visualizing the left on Emory, right on Holt, driving, driving… but we didn’t turn at the high school like I thought we might. Oh? We’re still driving? Wow. All the way to Lower Roswell?
With writing and with summer break, the most gratifying part is that there are still surprises around every corner.
This summer, there will be the pool, there will be lazy afternoons of reading, but if my kids give me a precious few hours of writing time each week, maybe one day, I’ll say, “Get in the car.”
They will climb in the minivan, close their eyes and get ready to play the Navigation Game.
This time, only I will know where we end up.