Guest Author Thursday: Michele Paige Holmes

Today’s Guest Author is Michele Paige Holmes, author of three contemporary romances (Counting Stars, All the Stars in Heaven, My Lucky Stars) and one historical romance, Captive Heart, that was a finalist in 2011 Whitney Awards.

Every time I talk to Michele I am impressed with her calm and friendly disposition, no matter what is going on in her life. Despite so many overwhelming things that have demanded her time over the years, she has still managed to write four very enjoyable novels. She is amazing. After reading her guest blog below, I know you will agree. PS – grab a tissue, just in case.

Michele’s most recent release, My Lucky Stars, is available for purchase at Amazon, Deseret Book and Seagull Book.

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What If I Had Missed It?

Last week I attended the LDStorymakers Conference. It was fun. It was inspiring. It was the kick in the pants I needed. And so I came home ready to write—ready to finish the four novels I have partially completed (I’m pretty sure I have some sort of writing ADD. Though the keynote speaker, Kevin J. Anderson, made me feel better about letting my writing veer off into so many avenues). I was ready to write and ready to query the manuscript I’ve rewritten and polished.

Then reality set in.

That other life I live, the one I’m busy with the 363 days of the year I’m not at the conference, rushed back in to sabotage my time.

Five children (one of whom is getting married in fifteen days), one husband, one dog, one soon-to-be son-in-law, my soon-to-be-living with us Mom, homeschooling, and my calling in Young Women easily consume every single second of my day. And then some.

It is often frustrating, and in the few days since the conference, I’ve felt that frustration more keenly.

I love learning of others’ successes. It is both encouraging and inspiring to see the incredible number of national market authors this state is producing. It gives me hope that someday I can join their ranks. But man, some days that someday seems to be taking forever. And it isn’t even because I’m busy collecting rejections. It’s simply that my day job as a mom often requires 24/7 commitment, leaving little or no time for pursuing my dreams.

Sigh.

It was in this somewhat frumpy, frustrated mood yesterday evening that I began the task of going through scrapbooks and piles and piles of photos (the scrapbooks only go to about second grade in our house—and that’s if you are one of the older kids. Alas, I have no time to stay on top of scrapbooking either), helping my oldest daughter choose pictures for her wedding reception slide show.

It was a sobering experience, the words from Fiddler on the Roof’s “Sunrise, Sunset” trailing through my head as I sorted.

Is this the little girl I carried?

Well, not for quite some time. She’s 5’8” now, a good three inches taller than me.

Is this the little boy at play?

Seeing the photos of our oldest son and daughter together—dressed as pirates, playing Legos, dancing in the rain—gave me hope that one day their relationship will return to a similar level of closeness.

I don’t remember growing older
When did they?

Like so many families today, ours seems to travel at the speed of light, running here and there to different schools, recitals, practices, sporting events, plays, and church activities. When our children were younger, family dinner seven nights a week used to be the norm. Now we’re excited if we get everyone to the table together once a week.

All this busyness isn’t necessarily bad. My husband is the picture of health because he competes in marathons and triathlons; our daughters have developed their talents and excel at dance and theatre. Our oldest son and daughter are responsible and hold down jobs. I sneak away to my critique group to hone my writing skills. We all serve in our church. Our lives are rich and full. But all of this has added up to make life fly by at a frightening pace.

So much so that last night I felt my frustration melt away into melancholy as I realized just how quickly time has passed. My daughter, my little girl, is getting married!

And then the thought . . .

What if I had missed it, this blur of time that sped by as her growing up years?

Fortunately, I didn’t. Our photographs indicate that we’ve used our time well. My daughter’s fiancé was amazed at just how many pictures Carissa has, how well-documented her life is, how many things our family has done.

How grateful I felt last night for all those camping trips (that were so much work and generated so much laundry), all the trips to Disneyland (instead of writing conferences), all the stamps in our national park passbook, all the effort we put into hauling our family around to support each other in their different endeavors. When all is said and done, I have to admit I’d rather have those pictures and memories than a contract with a big publisher. Of course, both would be nice, but if I can only ever have one, I wouldn’t trade.

Repeating to myself: I wouldn’t trade. I wouldn’t trade. I wouldn’t . . .

And really, that is true.

This summer my husband and I will celebrate twenty-four years of marriage. It has been a wild ride, and many times over the years we’ve said to each other—over the head of one of our children who has just thrown us for a loop—“this isn’t the program we signed up for!” Nevertheless, it’s what we got—every financially and emotionally draining moment, all the sorrows and joys, the delights and despairs of parenthood. We’ve stuck together through it all. Our family life hasn’t always been bliss, but overall the memories we’ve created are truly beautiful.

As will our daughter be on her upcoming wedding day.

I know because I spent the time with her finding the perfect dress. We’ve spent hours styling her hair, so it will be just right on her special day. Heart and soul I’ve thrown myself into wedding preparations with her these past four months. All the while, my hero and heroine have languished on the hard drive of my laptop, patiently waiting their turn at the altar.

They’re probably going to have to wait a little longer.

The three-year-old climbing on my lap as I type this, using his sticky fingers to turn my face to his, would like some attention. He’s been out of sorts lately too—what with Mom away at a conference and all this fuss with his older sister.

I completely understand how he feels; I’d like my turn too. I’m guessing that from now into the foreseeable future, there will always be a part of me desperately wishing for and trying to find more writing time. Some days that may get to me. I’m sure I won’t always be as patient as I should be. But after yesterday’s poignant reminder about how quickly time passes, I think I’ll set aside whatever it is I deemed important on my day’s to do list, in favor of taking my son to the park, pushing him high on the swing, and listening to the joy in his laughter.

Sunrise, sunset
Sunrise, sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears

Wouldn’t trade it. I’m so glad I’ve got it.

And if the stories in my head will stick around long enough, perhaps someday I’ll have those too.

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Thank you so much, Michele.

Now it’s YOUR turn, LDSWBR readers:

How do you balance your priorities between life and your reading/writing time?