Happy One-Year Bogiversary, Bethany! I’m thrilled to be here, helping you celebrate.
That ‘Yay For Summer’ Feeling
[Disclosure: I have kids. It’s not always pretty. This post may or may not reflect that.]
You know that feeling you get as summer approaches? That ooh- beach-time-I-can’t-wait feeling, which is closely related to the ooh-beach-time-I’m-so-embarrassed feeling? Not to mention the yay-for-the-heat feeling which comes hand in hand with the boo-for-the-school-holidays feeling?
Yep, summer. It’s a dangerous time of year, and I don’t mean the ozone layer.
I used to look forward to summer, and especially summer holidays—oh yeah. Freedom! Fun! Forever Young! I adored summer break. I used to count down the days. The daffodils bloomed and I’d get all smiley and happy with them. The snowline on the Southern Alps would creep higher, and while my snowboarding, ski-bunny friends mourned the change in season, I’d secretly gloat that my season was about to start.
All that, of course, was B.C. (Before Children.)
A.C. things are somewhat different. I do not have a body even remotely suitable for baring down to bikini brevity—or even tank top and shorts. Thank you, childbirth. I do not have the energy to work out and be all ‘Dynamo Mummy with the Concave Tummy’. #badattitudealert. I do not have wrinkle-free skin—kiddy-induced sleep deprivation for a decade is hard to reverse. Nor do I sport a healthy tan; that would require spare time. (Is that even a Thing A.C.?)
Strangely, in spite of my various body ‘issues’ A.C., I still find myself looking forward to summer. Which is ridiculous, because A.C. I am wise enough to know—as did my mother before me and her mother before her—summer equals school holidays equals kill-me-now because I’ve had the kids 24/7 since forever and they’re bored and I’m frazzled and Enough Already!
But A.C. I also know time is precious, and so are my kids. All too soon they’ll be grown up and off to enjoy their own summers of freedom. A.C. I know summer equals warmth equals love equals joy.
Yes. We can all do with a bit of joy in our lives. That’s why I love summer.
Maggie lives in Christchurch, New Zealand with her partner and two children. Her career has (so far) morphed from finance to education to small business . . . in fact, writing fiction is about the last thing her training prepared her for. But Maggie’s never been one to let a little thing like you’re-not-trained-for-this stop her, and when motherhood came along she grabbed the opportunity to spend more time writing.
Initially she freelanced for a national parenting magazine, but eventually Maggie realised it was more fun to make stuff up. Her career as a novelist began. She’s grateful for her experience as a freelancer, though; that’s where she learned how to kill her babies. (Her word-babies, not her kid-babies.)
In 2013 she self-published her debut novel, A Heat Of The Moment Thing, a classic chick lit tale with lashings of romance and humour. She followed it in 2014 with The Trouble With Dying, a suspenseful read (yes, still with plenty of romance and humour). She could tell you what she’s currently working on, but then she’d have to kill you.
Kids and part-time admin work are still her ‘day jobs’, but Maggie loves sneaking off to hang out at her local café, people-watching, catching snippets of conversation and extrapolating wildly to invent new characters.
She also loves travel, reading, and lazy hazy beach days, and is ever hopeful of a Lottery win that will enable her to do all three on some secluded island getaway.
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