An Ode To Writers

The following conversation occurred several years ago. It still holds true today. Writing isn’t a quick job, or hobby, but rather it takes time to ‘Get to the Point’ as multiple thoughts are jotted down. Which are then arranged and rearranged appropriately, followed by tons of editing. And editing is what takes the most time before hitting the PUBLISH button. I applaud those who have written and published their work, garnering a reader’s want for more. Bravo.  

“Are you done yet, Mom? You said we would watch a movie together.”

My son was sitting, waiting patiently on the couch.

“One minute. I just need to edit this. Make sure it makes sense. Includes all the important details,” I respond, not looking his way.

“It really has surprised me how much time it takes to write one piece,” I add, to myself.

I finish. Half an hour later.

“Movie?” she questions.

“Yeah. But hold on. I am working on something.” His eyes are focused on the laptop’s screen.

“Okay. Let me know when you are ready.” I walk back to the desktop computer. Open my post. Re-read it for any errors. Make sure it’s coherent.

I find a flaw. Or two.
A misspelled word.
A sentence that needs a pronoun.

“Mom? I’m ready,” my son says.

“One minute. I just need to edit this.”

Random Sleep


My eyes feel heavy, overworked, unable to function. They seem to be working overtime trying to stay open. My body tells me to give it up, lie down lady, lie down now. Close your tired eyes and rest.

Ah, yes. Rest.

My day is done. The hours of nurturing are over. It’s time to sleep.

My shoulders slump. I fall onto the bed. Onto my side. My head lands softly on the pillow. Blankets are gathered around, cocooning, warming me.

I sleep. For a moment. An hour. Half the night. Sometimes all night. I sleep enough, or not much at all, depending on how many night-noises invade my stupor.