By Maureen L. Bonatch
Happy Labor Day! Enjoy your celebration of the American
worker and the unofficial end of summer with a hot dog or two. Or perhaps rebelliously
declare your intention of wearing white long past the season. Sixteen years
ago, this holiday took on a different meaning for me and changed my mindset
despite my resistance.
I gained two babies, and lost all my control.
In 2001 I was pregnant with twins. (The first hint of my loss of control was when my pregnancy turned out
to be a BOGO.) In my obsessive Virgo control-freak mind, I decided the
girls would be born on Labor Day. It made perfect sense with the play on the
word “labor”. Also I would be 36-weeks
pregnant that day and the girls lungs should be adequately developed.
Imagine my surprise when my water broke a week prior to
Labor Day.
This Wasn’t the Plan
I’ve always liked to be in control when it comes to planning
my life. My writing? Not so much, I’m what you call one of those who write by the seat of my pants. (Panster)
In order to survive twin babies I became more organized than
ever. (Have you ever used a feeding and
poop chart? Believe me, if you don’t, and you’re only getting a few hours of
sleep then one of those munchkins isn’t going to eat while the other one eats
twice!) Having the twins was only the beginning of my loss of control.
I wished for a parenting book with all the answers laid out
so I knew if I was doing the right thing. That outlined how to regain the upper
hand when you were outnumbered by two little munchkins who had more sleep in
one day than you had in the last month.
I stressed myself out as I struggled to
dress them in cute little outfits (that
they immediately vomited on) and to take them out to show them off (with a entire van full of supplies for a
one-hour outing) or to fit back in my pre-pregnancy clothes (Twin pregnancy=yeah right). I often
felt like I was failing, until I stopped resisting.
Go With the Flow
I stopped trying to regain control and went with the flow. I
stopped trying to be the perfect mom because perfection isn’t real. Despite
writing fantasy and paranormal I’ve always strived to create honest, real, ordinary
characters in an extraordinary world. Because when I tried to write a story
without paranormal or fantasy, it felt unnatural. Once I embraced my
true writing self and stopped trying to write like everyone else, my stories
got better. I did the same with my girls.
I started being honest with myself about being a Mom, and with everyone else. Other moms bragged about how their kids slept all night or that
they were already potty-trained. I told them the brutal truth about my
struggles—and saw the change in their expression. Many were only saying
what they thought people wanted to hear. They wanted to assure everyone that
they were in control—when they were
not. Being a good Mom takes practice, patience and admitting mistakes. I apply
a similar formula when I'm writing a story.
Enjoying the Ride
My girls are 16 now and I’m proud to say that they follow
the beat of their own drum and don’t try to follow the crowd. I let them have
control over their life and follow their heart just like I do my characters.
Raising twin babies was hard, really hard. And writing
novels is hard. Neither come with instructions, and both only become
magnificent on their own when you relinquish control.
Have You Ever Had to Give Up Control? Or Do You Always Go With the Flow?
Feast your eyes on my newest 'baby', Evil Speaks Softly now available for Pre-order.
Everyone has a story to tell. Even the dead.
They were
never supposed to meet. Fame came easy for Liv by following in the footsteps of
the female writers in her family. The cycle repeated for decades…until Liv
changed the story. Her villain
They were
never supposed to find love. Liv never questioned her demanding nocturnal muse,
or the strange incidents in her old, family home until she met Gage. His job
was to watch her from afar, not reveal the truth about the curse and the
stories of the dead.
They’ve
broken all the rules. Together they unravel secrets as they strive to stop the
cycle. Liv’s ability to find love, and protect her loved ones, hangs on the
fickle whims of the dead—and they’ve got nothing to lose.
Author Bio: Maureen Bonatch grew up in
small town Pennsylvania and her love of the four
