Woman’s World

It seems to me that whenever I sit down to write, somebody, somewhere, wants something. If the phone rings I’m supposed to pick it up. Writing, whether it’s having a moan, working on a story, or a chapter of your novel (I wish I haven’t touched mine in aeons), or finishing off a report is not seen as important by those around you. That goes double if you are of the female persuasion.

As a person of this persuasion, I live in a woman’s world, which means that any writing time I am able to find is seen as invadeable. Grown up kids want to stop by and chat. My husband wants to speak about something important, and the dog wants his stomach rubbed.

I have tried writing into the night with a glass of wine, but the wine makes me waffle and whine when I’m tired, and interuppted by calls of “when are you coming up”. Is this everyone’s experience, or does it only happen in a woman’s world?