What to do, What to do...

I have an unexpected gift heading my way.

A free morning.

You see, while I'm being stay-at-home mum, Husband is working.  And while we're both home, the combination of my control-freakery and his real and reasonable need for rest from work tends to lead to us either doing things together as a family (yes, I still get a kick out of saying that.... *g*) or me doing stuff with Boy while he gets on with jobs.

But next Saturday - oh frabjous day! - Husband is taking Boy to meet with a bunch of mothers and toddlers he knows from work.  And possibly for another run around a castle afterwards.  I've even negotiated with him that he's going to do the pre-organising, packing the changes of clothes, the snacks, the juice....

*bliss*

This means I have a free morning.  At least.

I feel giddy.

(I must interrupt this post to explain that Husband just came in with two mugs of tea, one featuring cows and the other emblazoned with "Very Special Mummy", saying, "I got you this mug to remind you who you really are."  Then promptly set the cow mug down in front of me.... ROFL!)

But what shall I do with it?  I don't want to spend any money, as Husband's car has developed a suspicious leak, and I rather like spending any spare cash on Boy.  I have a list of jobs as long as my arm, but I don't really want to do paperwork or weeding or cleaning.  Do I go rush up a mountain without a dawdler, whiner, or someone on my shoulders, just because I can?

Visit a garden?  Go for a swim without my boobies being someone else's flotation device?  Lie in the sun and eat chocolates?  If it's a rainy day, lie in bed eating chocolates?

What would you do?

Writing with Room Service

© Orlando Florin Rosu | Dreamstime.com Used by Permission

Let me say, first off, I love my family. And the smartest thing I ever did, hands down, was have my children. But the thing is, I have always written best in total solitude—and solitude is not an easy thing to come by, when you have a family.

Which is fine. I don't believe in ivory towers, and on most days I can find enough hours while the kids are off at school, or after everyone's asleep, to get some writing done. It's just that every now and then, I grow nostalgic for the days when I could just get lost within the writing of a book—when I could sleep and eat and bathe (or not) in rhythm with the writing, staying up till 3 or 4 a.m. if words were flowing well, because there wasn't any need to wake at 6 and get the household on the go.

It's pure nostalgia. I'm not yearning to return to those days. While they were productive, they were also Very Lonely, and I'm happy with my life as it is now. But in the middle of the writing of The Firebird, I stumbled on a compromise that lets me have the best of both worlds, really: I lock myself into a hotel room for a weekend.

My hotel of choice is the Royal York, in downtown Toronto, but it also works in a Holiday Inn, or a Motel 6, or whatever you've got near you (not too near, mind—you don't want to be so far away that you'll waste all your writing time travelling there and back, but you don't want to be so close that people will feel they can call you back home for "emergencies").

I leave home on a Friday night, having stocked up the fridge and made sure my husband and kids have enough DVDs and video games to keep them all entertained, and I pay for an extra half day so that once I've checked into my room I don't have to come out again till Sunday suppertime.

And for the time in between, I just write. 

I can't do it too often, of course. All that room service doesn't come cheap. But it's well worth the effort of saving and planning, to just feel that wonderful feeling of total immersion—no TV, no Internet, nothing to pull you away from the book. And no dishes to wash.

My Canadian publishers, Simon & Schuster, were so intrigued when they found out that I did this, that they even made a short video trailer about it, which I'm sharing here. (Full disclosure: my hotel room doesn't look that neat when I've spent a day in it, really, and I'm much more likely to order a salad from room service than chocolate cake, but the cameraman liked the cake better).


For someone like me, who can sometimes spend two weeks just writing one chapter, a four-and-a-half-chapter weekend's a Very Big Deal. And I'm home for the hugs from my kids Sunday night, and to take them to school Monday morning. The best of both worlds.

How do you balance work and your family and time for yourself? 

(Come back Thursday, to find out what Julie's been up to...)