I always wanted to grow up and be a hermit. Being a writer is a little like that, I believe.
For days on end, I seclude myself in isolation, tapping a staccato rhythm on my keyboard. My foot taps as if keeping time, even though it’s mostly a nervous twitch. And the only person to appreciate the foolishness of all this is my dear, sweet, youtube watching husband.
You see, this is our “deal”. I write as much as I want. He plays video games, watches horrible movies, or gets lost in youtube documentaries about whatever caught his attention. If it sounds miserable, trust me, it’s anything but.
Neither of us are “people” people. We enjoy having no expectations, having no one around to complain about it, and nothing else that has to be done for just a few minutes. Or hours. Sometimes entire days. When I get excited and start explaining my latest stroke of brilliance, he hits pause and listens – usually while giggling at how cute I am. When he scores an epic kill, I come watch the next life. This is the beauty of a completely mundane life, and one I think is all too often overlooked.
As authors, we try to write the impossible characters: millionaires, heroes, tragically abused, and unbelievably resilient. We don’t imagine entire novels about the guy working at Walmart to make rent or the girl who has IBS. We’re so convinced that no one would want to read it, that a life like that can’t be exciting – or some other piece of drivel – that we prove to ourselves that we’re not good enough. If that’s true, then our readers aren’t good enough, so all of us need to strive for MORE, because we’re just so damned average.
But why? Why can’t we find the beauty in the little things. The extra in the ordinary. Why can’t we stop going so fast every single day to stop and realize how great all of these boring little things are, and how romantic, fantastic, and epic our stories really are?
I am a hermit by choice. I’m a hermit because I actually LIKE being just me. I relish this little, boring, and rather dull existence I have made, because it’s the smallest things that turn it into magic. The spontaneous kiss. The flirting after ten years of marriage. The way my fat little dog snores, and how much I just love the wrinkles in his tail. The personal success of chasing down the cat before it runs off with my scarf… again. My life is a fairy tale, set in contemporary times, building an epic series… And I share it with my readers all dressed up in shiny new clothes and beautiful stage sets. I write about life, because I am a professional hermit, and loving every minute of it.
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