I usually only do this on Sunday mornings, and then only for a little while because I feel like a slug and worry that if someone showed up at the door and I was still in my pajamas they’d think I was just hanging around doing nothing. As it is, I’ve only started telling people that I’m writing and only because I was starting to get interrupted. Even so, my mother still thinks of me writing as, ‘she’s not really busy.’ This is evidenced by the other day when I was upstairs writing and my husband (who was supposed to be watching the child but passed her off to my mother) was outside pulling weeds. Every few minutes, my mother called up to me with a question until I seriously thought about changing my name. When I asked her, “why don’t you ask Zoo these questions?” – her reply was –
“I don’t want to bother him. He’s busy.”
I’ve read articles on this – where writers tell children not to bother them unless someone is bleeding. I can vouch that this does not work on mothers who are supposed to be babysitting said non-bleeding children so I can write. Some of my favorite comments from her are as follows (comments she of course denies while laughing hysterically):
“Oh, I’m glad you got that book finished in time to send it out.” (mutters under breath as she walks away – “I hope she didn’t do all that for nothing.”
or when I told her I got rejected from a certain house, she said, “Well, they produce VERY good books.”
or my personal favorite when I finally got asked to sub a partial to that same house: “I guess they’re not as good as they used to be.”
Anyway – back to the the pajama thing – I’m thinking I do some of my best work in pj’s and plan to stay in them for longer than usual today to test my theory. I know I’m supposed to treat my writing like a job (which I do, really) but I think every job comes with certain perks – some jobs let you travel, some let you got to great restaurants, and mine lets me stay in pj’s as long as I want.
Until my mother finds out, anyway.