Today, we celebrated my friend Jackie’s birthday by going to a mini-golf course and out to dinner at Pizzeria Uno. That didn’t keep me from getting some reading done, though. I also read about half of Trey Barker’s chapbook, Where the Southern Cross the Dog. The book consists of three horror stories tied together by old blues songs, and I’m enjoying it so far.
One thing bothered me while I was at the mini golf outing, though. I was invited to my god daughter’s 2nd birthday party on an upcoming Thursday night, but I’m already committed to a writer’s group that night. It’s not really a session I can skip, like I did the Old Possum’s session last month, because I will be assisting in the delivery of the material. This is the class where I will be accompanying Melanie Tem on “Ode to Billy Joe” before we discuss the storytelling aspects of the song.
“Waitaminnit,” you’re saying. “I thought you did that last week.” Good catch. I was scheduled to, but that class was pushed back a couple of weeks, and I forgot to mention it in this creativity journal.
Most writing books state that if you are going to be a successful writer, you have to be prepared to sacrifice some time with friends and family, and that conflicts will inevitably arise. This is one of those cases. I haven’t been there much for my god daughters since I embarked on this writing thing, and that eats at me, especially at times like this. I justify it by saying that, at this point, I’m not really needed in their lives. When they are older, and need someone to relieve them from the stress of dealing with parents day-to-day, I need to be available for them. But I also realize that if I don’t have a long-term relationship with them, they won’t trust me when I will most be able to help them. I hate that struggle.
I feel guilty about something else, though, too. We could probably work something out for the writing group so that Melanie could continue it without me and my guitar present. But, when I honestly examine which I would prefer to do, I want to perform at the writing group more than attend the birthday celebration. That sounds harsh, but it’s honest. If my god daughter were older and we were closer, I would have a tougher time with the decision. Admitting that, I feel very guilty, but I also feel that I’m being true to what I want to do. I don’t know which is right.