This week’s installment in our Postmarked series is Jen writing to me about expectations, creativity, and what happens when we (or our spouses) are careless in regards to our writing. Here’s a preview:
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Imagine, then, Ryan’s own learning curve when it came to my writing life. He married a woman who’d studied to be a teacher, who’d happily quit that work to raise his babies, who did occasional editing and freelance writing, then suddenly, at the age of 38, mused aloud on a long walk in the neighborhood ravine if God weren’t calling her to start a blog. Then, almost as if on a lark, she wrote her first book. I think Ryan thought it was all wonderful at first—wonderful in a kind of wonderful “hobby” sort of way. I was writing, but I might also have been gardening, mastering my scone recipe, tinkering at automotive repair, improving my tennis serve. Truthfully, both of us, at that point, thought of my writing as something elective, something to be done when the time could be spared. . .
And of course you can probably guess at the terrible place where this is all headed, this carelessness about my writing.
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Keep reading the entire letter over at Jen’s blog.
Here is a complete list of our ongoing correspondence on creative work and family life:
Postmarked: Dear Shawn (1)
Postmarked: Dear Jen (2)
Postmarked: Dear Shawn (3)