So far, I haven’t consciously put myself into any of the characters in my stories. My friends and family may beg to differ when they finally read Charlie’s Tail, and I’ll be cringing inside a dark cupboard somewhere while they do it. However, the main character Sam and I do share something in common - our reluctant acceptance that we’re part of the big girl’s club. We are both adults now, apparently all grown up. And like her, I catch myself wondering so often, how can that be right?
When it comes to parenting, I often wonder, when are the parents coming home? This babysitting job is dragging on something chronic… and with my writing, I find myself blinking with disbelief that my first novel is getting published in April. Can it really be true? Doesn’t that only happen to real grown-ups?
And I’m not being coy, of course I know that just like Sam, I have pitched up here to this right now by working hard. I’ve grafted for many days, months, years – getting on with business, while juggling a life of busy-ness. I paid for childcare while I had a baby and toddler at home, so I could write. Now, I get up in time to get to my day job early so I can write. It doesn’t just happen. You do it, day in, day out, and piece by piece, it comes together. But all of that hard work, and the knowledge of the hard work (and the wrinkles from the hard work) amazingly doesn’t automatically mean I always feel like an adult.
Not that I want to feel grown up all the time, either. I don’t want the big kid causing trouble inside this woman’s body to leave home. She shows me how to laugh and cry and stomp my feet. But all the same, I have been a so-called adult for a healthy half of my life. You’d think I would have got used to what this entails, right?
Of course, come April, I will be celebrating! I will leave my dark cupboard and get super excited about Charlie’s Tail being read by you all. But will I feel more grown up? I’ll have to get back to you on that one…
Linda writes contemporary fiction for both adults and children.