Summer is still going strong where I live in Eastern Ontario. The corn stalks’ tips are curling brown, the heat combined with the humidity produces a steady stream of sweat, and the lakes are still pleasant enough to swim in. But September is here and soon fall will take summer’s place. Time waits for no man. It doesn’t wait for us to be comfortable with the changes. We can’t hold on but only to a memory.
So it is the same in my own personal life being a mother to three little ones. This past weekend, we went on a family trip to a Christian family conference in Silver Lake, Ontario. All the previous years I’ve been, I had the opportunity to really engage people in conversation; I had moments of peace and quiet. What was radically different this year was how much more energy I had to dispense in watching my kids play at the park, running back and forth amongst the three playing with each; juggling half-focused conversation with my familial responsibilities. I’m not single and free to do whatever I want anymore. I’m in a phase of life that comprises of self-sacrifice, but because of this my character is growing in so many wonderful ways. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.
I’ve noticed that the seasons change in my life as a writer, as well. Different loves have come and gone. Here are the spheres in which I’ve tasked my hand, heart, and mind.
- Short stories
- Non-fiction articles
Now that my first novel is completed, I’m in the throes of learning the art of copywriting. And that’s really all the time I have to give to writing. My second novel which I’ve started now has to sit on the back burner (tears are welling in my eyes). But instead of moping that I can’t write creatively in a certain field anymore doesn’t mean I can’t learn to enjoy writing creatively in another. This is a changing season, and I will change with it.
I look forward to crafting my writing in other genres in the future. But I’d have to say writing a novel has been my favourite. Creating a world, characters, plot— the depth and focus that I pour into it is the equivalent of a high.
For those of you who write, what is your favourite genre? Screenwriting? Poetry? It could be anything! And why?