Two Things Every Writer Needs

Yesterday

I posted about my

inability to write.

My first MS,

with whom I have spent the better part of three years in a dramatic love / hate relationship,

is currently languishing

in a bottom drawer

crying out for some much needed TLC.

You see

the last time we spent quality time together

it all ended in tears.

The break-up of all break-ups.

The MS haughtily took itself to a quiet corner to sulk

and I, ashamed as I am to admit it,

took solace in the world of another.

The new MS idea almost ended my first meaningful MS relationship.

Don't get me wrong,

I did try.

For 6 long torturous months

I tried.

I have dug deep,

 tried reconciliation,

counselling,

self help books,

 the works

but...

each time we sit down together

each time we think we have it all sorted,

the new MS sidles up to listen in.

The new MS is well meaning,

full of inspiration,

full of big ideas,

but the new MS is not helping.

Yesterday

I thought we had hit rock bottom,

I thought there was no way to pick up the pieces.

That is until I spoke up.

I stepped away from the MS's

and I went to my peeps.

The Two Things Every Writer Needs

1. Someone to tell you what you WANT to hear

2. Someone to tell you what you NEED to hear.

My bestie (and critique partner) took the brunt of it

(that's what happens when you drop by at wine o'clock).

She listened,

she asked appropriate questions,

she considered

and then she agreed.

I felt great.

I had secured my

No 1. Someone to tell you what you WANT to hear

Later, over another glass of wine and dinner

The Cat  -husband not animal - asked how my day was.

Now usually I regale The Cat with stories, funny incidences

 and the drama of spending the day with 

Thing 1 & Thing 2. 

Instead he found himself nodding uncertainly to

 my incensed ramblings

 about how the old MS and I had fallen out of love

 and the new MS that was flirting with me at every opportunity.

I detailed the tears,

the laughter,

the fights,

the jealousy

and finally I admitted

the guilt.

The Cat cleared his throat, folded his arms and sat back,

"So, you're giving up?"

My stomach dropped, "No!"

I shook my head vehemently, "No no no."

I tried to explain how suffocated I felt by the first MS,

how needy it had become,

how it was stifling my creativity.

The Cat nodded in understanding.

I sighed in relief.

The Cat hugged me close,

"It's OK to admit defeat. If it's too hard, then it's too hard"

I nodded gratefully...

Hang on...

 "No. That's not what this is. I'm not giving up because it's too hard!"

 Cat annoyingly raised one eyebrow.

 (How? how does he do that?).

"Are you sure?"

Am I sure. Am I SURE.

I snatched up my glass of wine and stomped away.

AM I SURE. Huh!

Dinner was eaten in silence.

Half way through Cat

commented on my choice of wine.

Three quarters done

and Cat complimented the dish.

As I finished Cat collected the plates and loaded the dishwasher.

Cat poured us another glass of wine.

The Cat is a lovely husband.

He knows me, hairy armpits and all.

He has my best interests at heart.

Maybe he has a point.

Am I sure?

No 2. Someone to tell you what you NEED to hear.

Today I am back on track.

MS no 1 has been given a new lease of life.

She has three months to get her act together.

MS no 2 has agreed to wait patiently in the side lines.

Her time will come.

May 30 - my 33rd birthday - MS no 1 TBC.

A deadline.

Accountability.

I owe it to myself and to my wonderful support network.

I am so grateful to have two people who know me so well.

What in this writerly world are you grateful for?