School is Back… Now What?
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My kids returned to school today. This seems to happen every year and I somehow never really get used to it. It’s like one day they’re here and the next they’re gone… well, for five or six hours at least. Sure, there are lots of preparations and checking school supply lists and obsessing over teacher assignments and frantically trying to get a PE waiver when your child finds out he’s supposed to change clothes in a locker room, but it never truly sinks in until the house is empty.
This year is, however, different from all the previous years because my oldest is going to middle school (shudder). That means my three kids are scattered across two schools now instead of comfortably ensconced in one familiar one. New teachers, seven different classes, a very confusing schedule that changes every day, a school bus route (yikes), and the completely unique middle school gym smell that hasn’t changed in three decades and still lingers in my brain, a ghost of a memory. There’s all this newness juxtaposed with the same old summer Covid surge, oppressive Florida heat that is just beginning to peak (it may be back-to-school season, but it is certainly NOT autumn), and terrifying afternoon thunderstorms that threaten to wreak havoc on school dismissal procedures every afternoon.
All that’s to say, things are changing around here as they always do. I’m sure those of you with children can relate. And I wonder if those of you who are stay-at-home parents, work-from-home parents, or freelancers can relate to the creeping sense of uneasiness I feel every year at this time? I always feel like I’m surrounded by all this change, yet somehow, I’m standing still. Like, I should be changing something, right? There are possibilities that don’t exist while the kids are home for the summer. I can reinvent my work life, I can start a new career, I can forge a new path. I can do… anything. Well, if by “anything” I mean doing flexible freelance work for very little pay while sitting at a Starbucks instead of at my dining room table between the hours of around 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. (make that 1 p.m. on Wednesdays for early release day). As Kevin Garnett might yell, “ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE!”
Yeah, practically speaking, not much is possible. And even if more were possible, I really have no idea what I would want the possibility to look like. More than a decade of managing the daily operations of a household makes it difficult to see beyond the walls of your home. To even imagine what might be out there beyond the wreckage of your neighbor’s fence that is falling down, rotten, and propped up by a plastic kiddie pool. At least, that’s what the past decade has done to me. My default setting is insular and isolated. I’m an introvert and a homebody. If I can fill my time doing household chores, reading books, watching sports, and working behind a computer in my dining room, I will.
I’ll let you in on a secret. Last year at this time when the restlessness set in, I wrote an entire novel. It took me a few months to draft it, then I revised and tweaked it, and eventually, started sending queries to literary agents. I had never written a novel before. Most of my writing is essays, blogs, or short humor pieces. Over the course of six months or so, I wrote about 90,000 words and I was feeling pretty accomplished. My paid freelance writing work that had been consistent for several years was tanking and having the manuscript to pour my energy into felt good. It felt right. It felt like what I should be doing.
Then the querying began and… well… things did not go great. In retrospect, it was probably the most likely outcome for a person writing a first novel with little experience, but when you’re in the thick of it, it’s easy to feel like things will go better. That someone will certainly recognize your brilliance and throw bags of cash at your feet. That you’ll become Fredrik Backman (author of A Man Called Ove, Beartown, etc.) overnight and thousands of people will start loving the photos of bunnies you post on Instagram as much as they love the dog pictures Fredrik posts. Hey, a guy can dream, right? After all, to be a writer, you must be at least a little bit delusional. Through a more practical lens, me expecting to succeed at writing novels is probably akin to me waking up one morning and deciding I can be a professional AC repair person because I sometimes unclog the drain line of my air conditioner.
Now, I haven’t given up on the book entirely. I put it aside for a while to gain new perspective or whatever and then revised quite a bit and I’m currently exploring other pathways. We’ll see what happens. Maybe something, maybe nothing.
But in many ways, as this new school year begins, I feel like I’m back to square one. I honestly don’t know if writing novels is a thing I should be doing. If that’s how I most want to spend my time and energy. Writing long-form is hard and I miss the instant gratification of completing a piece and seeing it published. I’ve always felt like I love publishing my writing more than I love the writing itself. I care more about the results than the process. This mindset makes me feel like a fraud; like I’m not a pure writer at heart. The doubt that comes with being a writer (of some sort) is endless fun.
Where am I going with this? I don’t know. That’s the thing. And I’m not sure if I ever really will know. Striking a balance between doing what you must do to survive and keep your family above water and doing things you enjoy or otherwise feel compelled to do to achieve some feeling of accomplishment is impossible. In many ways, I realize I’m lucky to have the time and space and comfort to even consider such things. I’m not simply fighting for my life every day. At least not yet. Who knows what the future will bring for any of us?
What else has been happening? Well, I put on these shark sunglasses one of my kids got at a birthday party and it was the most fun I’ve had in quite some time.
During back-to-school events, I learned that according to a new Florida state law, parents are required to provide written consent for their children to be called by any name other than their full legal name. Obviously, this is in response to the gender hysteria that consumes our governor’s every waking moment. Sure, homeowner’s insurance companies are leaving the state in droves, inflation is twice the national average, there’s a massive teacher shortage because teachers are underpaid and treated like criminals, and so on, but THIS is what really matters. Because this stupid law is a complete waste of time for both parents and teachers, I gave consent for my kids to be called “literally any name they want to be called.” I wish the governor would see it (lol, yeah right, he’s never even in the state).
On a lighter note, we finally saw the Barbie movie last weekend. The world doesn’t need another Barbie movie take, so I’ll just say we enjoyed it. I pretty much agree with Ginny Hogan’s assessment: “It was really fun, and the performances were excellent, but sometimes the plot was a little too silly…”
The Matchbox 20 bit in the movie was a stroke of genius.
Things I’ve enjoyed lately:
Maggie Downs’ memoir Braver Than You Think – a highly compelling travel memoir that deftly incorporates a very moving and complex family storyline.
Again, wearing the shark sunglasses… can’t say this enough.
Novels by Rebecca Makkai (The Great Believers, The Borrower, and I Have Some Questions for You) and her Zillow deep dives on Substack.
Season 2 of The Bear on Hulu (but not as much as I enjoyed Season 1… at least so far).
My 9-year-old helping with the dishes and my 11-year-old taking the trash out to the curb and mowing the lawn (kind of).
A dark chocolate bar with a layer of cashew butter in it made by Hu that I got from a meal prep delivery service.
Humor Me by Julie Vick is always helpful and entertaining.
An important read:
Finally, it definitely doesn’t fit in the things I’ve enjoyed category, but this essay by novelist Madeline Miller, author of The Song of Achilles and Circe, about her experience with long Covid is very important. I honestly never know what to do with such information other than worry, but I’d still rather know.
Best wishes for back-to-school or whatever it is you’re up to. And in the face of this relentless heat, please heed the written advice that Will Smith provided to me when I was 11 years old and he autographed my boarding pass holder in the Washington D.C airport: “Stay Cool!”