I do not have any answers on how to write or parent. A decade ago I had strong opinions on both. Back then, I was a fool taken in by writer/mommy bloggers who thought writing a book or having a child made them experts. I believed in the misinformation they dispensed like gurus that have been to the top of the mountain and returned with commandments carved in stone. I mistook their arrogance for knowledge.
Two books and one child later, all I can tell you is this:
– My first book did not help me with writing my second.
– My second will, no doubt, do little to assist me with my third.
– Your second child will humble you as much as the first and, if the first didn’t, the second will.
– Next time round I might be less inclined to buy stuff and more inclined to believe in the tenacity of human life.
From all the articles I have ever read about authors more famous than I, all I have learned is this:
– That Isabella Allende wears earrings when she writes will not help me write.
– That Tim Winton writes long hand will not help me write.
– That Joyce Carol Oates runs 20 miles a day will not help me write (or run for that matter).
– That Hemingway pulled the trigger of his shotgun with his toe will not help me write.
– That Jeffery Eugendies sometimes sleeps at his desk will not help me write.
– That Nadine Gordimer writes 2000 words before dawn will not help me write.
The only useful thing anyone has ever said about writing is to show up. Show up, hammer out some words and hope something takes. A bit like trying to get pregnant.