PhotobucketTherese here. Today’s guest is Holly Tucker, a freelance writer and college professor whose work has appeared in the New Scientist, Christian Science Monitor, Wall Street Journal, and San Francisco Chronicle. She edits the book blog, Wonders & Marvels, and can be found on Twitter (@history_geek). Her latest book Blood Work: A Tale of Medicine and Murder in the Scientific Revolution comes out this spring. She’s also a parent to a grade-school daughter—and popped in to talk about what it’s like to raise a daughter and a book at the same time. It’s something many of us here at Writer Unboxed can certainly relate to. Enjoy!

How My Daughter Kept Me Honest as I Wrote

Sometimes, it takes a whole family to write a book. And how.

I was delighted when my agent told me that the book proposal for Blood Work would be going to auction. While I liked all of the interested houses, I hoped with every cell in my body that it would land at W.W. Norton.

“Mommy,” my daughter said, “who is this Norton guy you and daddy keep talking about?” I explained to her what Norton really was. Clearly, the message did not fully connect. But from the mouth of a babe, consoling advice came forth.

“Well,” she said, “if Norton doesn’t like you, then I think he’s a big jerk!”

On the day of the auction itself, I couldn’t sit still. So I did what any self-respecting parent would do: I packed up my daughter and her friend and headed to Chuck E. Cheese.

There is something strangely zen about throwing oneself willfully into cacophony. I loaded the kids up with tokens, pulled out a scarf I was knitting, and plopped into one of the plastic parent booths. Insert needle, wrap yarn, pull through, insert needle, wrap yarn, pull through. Just being able to focus on knitting was a triumph, the rest melted away.

When we emerged, my agent called with the good news. Norton had won the auction. My daughter jumped up and down with glee, screaming “Whohoo! We did it! We did it!”

But it didn’t take long for my daughter’s excitement to turn to frustration, even anger, as the reality of writing soon hit. I retreated for what seemed like days at a time in my study. And about half way through the fifteen-month process, she asked the question that broke my heart: ”Do you love your book more than me?”

Her question hit to the core of what every parent who writes must feel at times. How is it possible to throw all of one’s creative energy into a book, and still have enough for those we love?

The answer came from my daughter herself. In that wise grade-school voice that never ceases to amaze and surprise me, she said: “Mommy, you need my help.”

PhotobucketShe asked how much time I had left before my deadline and how many pages I had left to write. From there, she marked up a calendar with what would become my daily goals. Once a week, she had me sign a progress contract. And every day, she checked in on my work with a seriousness of a schoolteacher.

The tensions melted away. My book soon became our book. My goals were our goals. She finally began to understand why I had to shut the door of my study. I wasn’t shutting her out. I was doing the homework that she had assigned me.

If there is ever a person I never want to disappoint, it is my child. And if ever there was a time I could show her the importance of setting goals and sticking to them, this was it.

The pages started to flow more freely, mostly because I was happier. I didn’t have to make a choice between parenting and being a writer. My daughter began upping the daily quota, while also scheduling “mommy daughter days” as a reward for our hard work.

The galleys of Blood Work arrived last week. My daughter opened the pages and saw that the book was dedicated to her. She hugged me tightly and whispered in my ear: “We did it.”

Thanks, Holly, for a great post! Readers, be sure to check out Holly’s fascinating blog, Wonders & Marvels. Write on!

Photo courtesy Flickr’s mugley

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