I wish I could block out three hours every day to sit at my computer and write. In a window seat, or maybe at a fancy desk. With like tea, or wine and chocolate. Maybe a cat snuggled up on my lap while well-played jazz music floats through the air.
But that’s not how life goes. I’ve never had a window seat. I live in cast housing where I rarely have a desk and cats are banned. Having three hours of interrupted time doesn’t fit into my schedule. Having an hour of time rarely fits into my schedule. So I write when I can.
A half hour while I eat my breakfast. An hour between shows. And sometimes when I have lots of down time during shows backstage.
That’s right. While others are onstage belting, I’m sitting at my dressing room station, working on my laptop. I shove my makeup aside, turn my laptop on airplane mode, and work. In a good show, and by that I mean the kind where I’m offstage a lot, I can get a thousand words in per performance. Wizard of Oz was a great show. The Wicked Witch is only onstage for fifteen minutes, so I had tons of time to work. Right now, I’m an Angel in Anything Goes… Once again, I can do a thousand words.
Part of me feels like Hermione, propping my homework books against the milk jug during breakfast. But it’s the time I have, and I make it work and have (knock on wood) never missed a cue doing it.
Someday when my books have hit the New York Times Best Sellers list, I’ll give up the rest of the mini-jobs and only do eight shows a week. I’ll take time off performing to go to conferences and do fancy things. Maybe I’ll even live somewhere I can have a cat.
But until then, if you need me, I’ll be in the girl’s dressing room, typing between tap dances.