Writer Mama Riffs on Raising A Writing Career Alongside Your Kids

By Abigail Green

Here in Baltimore, spring is in full swing. Birds are chirping, flowers are blooming, and my toddler is learning not to pick the ones in the neighbors’ yards. Unfortunately, not many flowers grow in our yard because I have a black thumb. You might say gardening and I go together like kids and cauliflower. I like to think that I do my growing in other ways — say, by continuously growing as a person, a mother, and a writer.

When you are self-employed — as freelancers are, by nature — growing as a writer is not a given. Most of us don’t have editors pushing ever more challenging assignments on us, or suggesting we mix things up by penning poetry along with our standard nonfiction fare. So it’s up to us to seek out opportunities on our own.

I know a magazine writer who challenged herself to write a novel. She signed up for a night class, got some books out of the library, and joined a fiction writers’ group. A year later, she had a finished manuscript that she’s now circulating to agents. Another colleague keeps her humor writing fresh by performing stand-up comedy now and then.

When I have felt my own writing getting stale - starting every story with a question, ending every article with a quote, using the same phrases over and over -I know it’s time to shake things up. So I got into travel writing as a way to learn how to write descriptive prose. I got into blogging as a way to develop material for my essays and find out which topics resonated with readers. I even attempted some fiction to learn the art of writing dialogue. Alas, I abandoned my budding novel before it began.

But that’s OK, because each new venture helped me grow as a writer. By reading and studying and listening and writing, whether on my own, in a class or at a lecture or workshop, I learned new skills to bring to my work. I learned that captivating leads are essential whether you write fiction or nonfiction. I learned that dialogue can spice up an essay. I discovered that unusual comparisons are key to humor - for instance, “My new baby keeps me busier than a one-legged man in a butt-kicking contest” is much funnier than “My new baby keeps me busy from sun up till sun down.”

Sometimes growing as a writer might mean taking on an assignment that’s outside your normal range. Maybe you could try your hand at a book review, a how-to article or a feature-length piece if you usually write shorts. Maybe writing press releases or web content could teach you to be more clear and concise in your magazine or newspaper writing.

Give something new a shot this spring, writer mamas. Yes, it might wither and die on the vine (like my would-be novel), or it might flourish and grow into something more beautiful than you ever imagined.

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Abigail Green is a freelance writer in Baltimore. Over the past 10 years, she has written for national, regional and online publications including AOL, AAA World, Bride’s, Baltimore Magazine, Cooking Light and Health. Her latest project is raising her first child, which she chronicles in her blog Diary of a New Mom http://diaryofanewmom.blogspot.com/.

By Abigail Green 

I am lucky enough to have some pretty amazing friends. One started a school for underprivileged kids. Another helped clean up Hurricane Katrina-ravaged communities and does volunteer work every week. Another friend raises money for pediatric epilepsy, on top of her paralegal job. While I am proud of my friends and inspired by them, I  often feel like a big ol’ slacker.

I mean, let’s face it as a freelance writer, I write essays about my belly button. I publish 200-word articles about adult braces. I pitch stories on feng shui and skirts for men. (Shockingly, that one never sold.) I am hardly changing the world through my work.

At times this really gets me down. I wonder, what am I doing with my life? Am I wasting my talents as a writer? Could I be doing something more meaningful? Now that I’m a mom I feel more of a sense of purpose, but I am still plagued by these thoughts occasionally. After all, besides raising my child, writing is my life’s work.

It’s taken me years to figure out that I don’t work solely for the paycheck. Don’t get me wrong,  making money is definitely a goal. It’s always a consideration when I take a job, especially when I was single and paying my own rent, and also now that I have a family. Money is just not the most important factor.

I’ve learned that in order to feel good about myself, I need to feel like my work is meaningful. I need to know that all that time spent writing, revising, ruminating, and revising some more is worth it. I want to touch people with my words, make them think, laugh, cry, or just react, period.

So who’s touched by the latest innovations in orthodontia? Not many people. That’s why I try to balance those writing assignments with ones that are more personally meaningful. I once wrote about overcoming my fear of fainting at the doctor’s. I was thrilled to get a letter from a woman with the same problem. She said she’d never known the condition was treatable, and my article gave her hope. Talk about touching! Another time, my story about a nonprofit sparked an anonymous $800 donation.

Not everything I write will garner such response, of course. And the truth is, I enjoy writing light-hearted personal essays, fluffy trend pieces and funny blog entries from time to time. So instead of labeling myself a slacker, I’m trying to cut myself some slack. After all, I’m raising a caring, responsible human being.  I write articles that touch people, or at least tell them how to straighten their teeth. I’ve even written about my amazing friends. What could be more meaningful than that?

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Abigail Green is a freelance writer in Baltimore. Over the past 10 years, she has written for national, regional and online publications including AOL, AAA World, Bride’s, Baltimore Magazine, Cooking Light and Health. Her latest project is raising her first child, which she chronicles in her blog Diary of a New Mom http://diaryofanewmom.blogspot.com/.

I have been a regular exerciser for years. Don’t hate me; it’s my parents’ fault. As a kid, I passed out water along race routes to my dad and his fellow runners, and did leg lifts alongside my mom and her leg warmer-clad compatriots in aerobics class. Exercise is just something I do, like brushing my teeth. OK, more like flossing-I don’t do it every day, but I aim for three or four times a week.

As a longtime gym member, I’ve started to recognize a pattern: each January, the place is packed. Parking spaces are scarce, and there are long waits for the treadmills. People in shiny, brand-new workout wear are everywhere. Then just as suddenly, around March, the gym empties out again and it’s just us regulars.

I’m not disparaging these would-be workout buffs for falling off the fitness wagon. I’m just noticing that if you approach exercise as “just something you do,” rather than an all-or-nothing oath, you’re more likely to find time for it regularly and stick with it.

Listen: there are plenty of days when it takes all the energy I can muster to drag myself to the gym. Especially if I’ve just spent 10 straight hours with a stubborn toddler who refused to nap so I could finish this column. Those days, I’ll set the recumbent bike to Level 2 and flip through People magazine as I pedal. A challenging workout? Hardly. But I give myself points for showing up. That’s what keeps me coming back to the gym in March, June, September, and even in January, when I can’t find a parking spot.

It’s the same with writing.

I’ve been a writer all my life, too. Writing is just something I do. I don’t broadcast it on bumper stickers or T-shirts. I don’t apologize for the time I spend writing. I don’t need to justify spending money on writing books or workshops, or on a babysitter so I can write.

Now, I have been writing for publication for years. Sometimes I even get paid! I realize that if you’re just starting out and not earning much, if any, money for your work, it may be more difficult to convince yourself and others that writing is a worthwhile use of your time.

But it is. Like regular exercisers, writers who stick with it know that the rewards are great. Approach your writing as you would any other important undertaking in your life. Find time for it. Make time for it. Give yourself credit for showing up.

On the days when I write little more than a couple of emails and a blog entry, I don’t beat myself up. I’m still flexing my writing muscles, right? And I know that tomorrow I’ll sit down at my desk again and tackle that new assignment or tough revision. That’s because I’m a writer. And so are you. It’s just something we do.

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Abigail Green is a freelance writer in Baltimore. Over the past 10 years, she has written for national, regional and online publications including AOL, AAA World, Bride’s, Baltimore Magazine, Cooking Light and Health. Her latest project is raising her first child, which she chronicles in her blog Diary of a New Mom http://diaryofanewmom.blogspot.com/.

By Abigail Green

Heidi Klum is starting to get on my nerves. You’re probably thinking, “Huh? What does the internationally famous supermodel, host of ‘Project Runway,’ and mother of three who is married to the sexy recording artist Seal have to do with YOU?!” The answer is nothing, except that Heidi is a regular reminder that my life as a working mom is far less romantic and effortless than hers.

See, Heidi and Seal have been popping up all over the media lately—proclaiming their love for each other on “Oprah,” holding hands in magazine photos, beaming at each other on the red carpet. For them, every day is Valentine’s Day. In case you missed it, Seal proposed to Heidi by building an igloo, decking it out with rose petals and champagne, and secretly whisking his bride-to-be there in a helicopter! In interviews, he has said that Heidi is his best friend and that despite having small children and wildly successful careers, he makes it a point to always put her first.

Now, I’m guessing Heidi and Seal don’t pick up their own dry-cleaning. Even so, I’m wondering how they have the energy to be so romantic. In my house, champagne and roses are in short supply. Raising a child, working, and sometimes mopping up the flooded basement take precedence over romance. Who can hold hands when you’re wrestling a toddler into his pajamas? And champagne would just impair my ability to match up the sippy cups with the correct lids.

Some days I see my husband only in 20-minute increments: before he goes to work, during the post-work hand-off before I go to the gym or upstairs to work on a writing assignment, and after the baby goes to bed before we collapse in exhaustion.

We do plan the occasional date night, but when it comes to shelling out hard-earned money on dinner and a sitter or on a much-needed home repair, the house usually wins. A crayon-clogged toilet’s not going to fix itself. And when it comes to spending time alone together or sleeping, sleep usually wins. Boy, Heidi and Seal have nothing on us, huh?

Of course, it’s easy to be spontaneous and romantic when you’re rich and famous. Heck, Oprah probably baby-sits for them herself!

Personally, I feel one of the most loving gestures my husband can make is to take our son swimming on Saturday mornings so I can have a few hours to myself, or take over baths and bedtime stories when I’m on deadline, or whip up a batch of vegetarian chili that will feed us all week when I have no time to cook. And when it comes right down to it, I’ll take a foot rub over a rose-petal-strewn igloo any day. Hear that, Heidi?

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Abigail Green is a freelance writer in Baltimore. Over the past 10 years, she has written for national, regional and online publications including AOL, AAA World, Bride’s, Baltimore Magazine, Cooking Light and Health. Her latest project is raising her first child, which she chronicles in her blog Diary of a New Mom http://diaryofanewmom.blogspot.com/.

By Abigail Green

Ah, January. The time of year when magazine headlines scream “New Year, New You!,” “Live Great in 2008,” and “Secrets to Making Your Resolutions Stick.” For me, though, my new life started not on New Year’s, but when my first child, Miles, was born last June. All of a sudden, I had to figure out how to fit two very important and very time-consuming pursuits-motherhood and my writing career-into one very busy life.

When Miles was about three months old, I decided I was ready to start working again. I found a babysitter to come over a couple afternoons a week, and I accepted a short writing assignment. One day, I had a meeting, so I asked the sitter to come a little early, ironed some non-drawstring pants, and blow-dried my hair for the first time since the baby was born. I waited until the last possible minute to put on my white shirt. (By that time I had learned a thing or two about the digestive habits of babies.)

Wouldn’t you know, that was the day the babysitter’s bus was running behind schedule. When she finally arrived, I tossed the baby into her arms and dashed out the door. Once I was in the car, I immediately noticed a foul smell. Was that - ? Could it be - ? Noooo!!! Had I accidentally dropped a dirty diaper into my purse?!

At a stoplight, I looked down and saw that I had stepped in a disgusting deposit left in our yard by the neighbor’s dog. Not just a little bit, either. A huge, gooey gob was stuck to my shoe and, by now, ground into the floor mat. I pulled over and, while cursing like a sailor, attempted to scrape off my shoe with an old napkin I found in the glove compartment. All those baby wipes and bottles of hand sanitizer I’d been carting around for months were conveniently packed in my diaper bag-at home. The more I tried to clean up the mess, the worse it got, and the worse it smelled. I cried. I cursed some more.

And then-what else could I do?-I called and cancelled my meeting. Something I’d never done in my pre-baby life. Then I cried some more and felt very sorry for myself. How had I ever thought I could do this working mom thing? Who was I kidding? After that I drove to the mall and bought myself a new pair of shoes. I figured I deserved them.

In spite of it all, I rescheduled my meeting and completed my article on time. It wasn’t graceful, but it got done. There’s a lesson in there, I think. This New Year’s, let’s not pressure ourselves to lose weight, write a bestseller, raise perfect children, and generally have our “Best Year Ever!” Sometimes-for writers and for mothers but especially for those of us who are both-good enough is good enough.
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Abigail Green is a freelance writer in Baltimore. Over the past 10 years, she has written for national, regional and online publications including AOL, AAA World, Bride’s, Baltimore Magazine, Cooking Light and Health. Her latest project is raising her first child, which she chronicles in her blog Diary of a New Mom http://diaryofanewmom.blogspot.com/.