Writer on Vacation

Are writers ever really on vacation? I'm in Florida for a week, and amidst the games of shuffleboard and trips to the beach, I can't stop thinking about my novella. I'm itchy to work on it, even when I'm touring the wildlife park or sitting in the hot tub. My husband Shawn and I are staying with his parents in their trailer, so there isn't much space to get away and work, and I'm reluctant to get up early and disturb others. So I'm stealing a few minutes here and there.

Part of me thinks I should just relax and have a good time, not worry about writing. But the thing is, I want to write! I feel better when I do, not so antsy or distracted. Writing doesn't feel like work to me right now. I haven't always been in that space, so now that I am, I want to take advantage of it.

One of my favourite writing anecdotes is about James Thurber and his wife at a party. Seeing a certain look come across his face as he was ladling punch, his wife snapped, "Damnit, Thurber, stop writing!"

A few years ago, Shawn and I took our first trip south, to Costa Rica. One day I stayed back at the resort while Shawn went on a wildlife tour. From my journal:

Four months this story has been sitting, waiting for me to come back to it. But it's stingy now, reluctant to let me in, and I'm rusty, my thoughts come slowly and seem thin. Wouldn't it be easier just to read someone else's story? Instead of write my own? Easier, yes, but sad, that this agility, this facility has slipped out of my grasp. How to bring the words back? How to prime the pump, prove again my devotion to this story?

I have given up a trip to Palo Verde and Santa Rosa -- I will not see the birds and crocodiles and monkeys. Is that enough? At breakfast this morning they asked, why didn't you go? I wanted to stay, I replied, leaving them none the wiser. But we know, si? We know I stayed for you

I did eventually finish that story, and I've never regretted the lost trip to Palo Verde. In fact, I cherish the memory of choosing writing over "vacation."