Single Parenting & Writing

Tin House, a local publishing house and educational organization, recently offered a scholarship for single parents for this upcoming winter workshop. I was so excited, imagining that this would be a way I might actually attend. I started my essay over and over again and put an alert in my phone for the deadline of Oct 17, so I wouldn't miss it.

​Yesterday I sat down to send it and well, the deadline was Oct 14..... I gasped, I cried. I was so mad at myself for flaking. Later, when my daughter was screaming in the car, I told her to let it rip. Yell it out. I won't be one to tell a girl, any girl, to quiet her feelings down. I wanted to scream like that too.

Anyway, I figured I'll just post my mini essay here. In my own blog, which I realize, I have not contributed to since last DECEMBER. Damn.

So here it is, my thoughts on single parenting & my writing. What I'd hoped to gain from being at this Winter's Workshop. 
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Hello! 

I missed the deadline, thinking it was 10/17 & just realized yesterday it was 10/14. Urged by a friend, I'm emailing you here with the hope of being considered, and with the understanding I may not be...

Thank you in advance for considering! 
Sincerely,
Marialicia Gonzalez
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I’ve started this essay so many times. Struggling with how to express my feelings about single motherhood and my writing…
 
Choosing to become a single parent has affected everything I do, think, feel, and express. It was a circumstance I claimed and am living with as much grace and gumption as I can. It’s not something I ever wanted, the “single” part I mean. But motherhood chose me long ago. When it came down to the last minute of possibility for me, I stepped in, and my daughter responded by firmly implanting herself inside of me.
 
My writing is kind of like that. I’m not sure I can say I choose to write. Writing chooses me. Writing keeps calling me out and reminding me I’m alive and I have something to say. It’s a teacher and a life partner. Now that I am a parent I feel stronger about being myself and continuing to develop a “me” to offer my daughter. Paving the way for her to strengthen her character and believe in her self-expression, whatever that may be. I also think that if I follow my dream and inspiration, I’ll trust when she follow hers.
 
My initiation into motherhood was grief-ridden, painful and isolating. Though I have a village of loving people around me, friends like no one deserves (or maybe like everyone deserves?), it was shockingly sad and strange.
 
Grief informs much of my writing too, which began in childhood. Writing always helped me reflect on what was so that I could dream of what hadn’t been. I still use the method of free writing, allowing the themes lying under the surface to rise up and show me what’s really on my mind and in my heart.
 
When I think about what challenges me in being a parent and a writer, it’s carving out room in my mind, heart, and home to delve into the ride writing wants to take me on. Before baby, I could take the time I wanted and luxuriate in it. Now, I have to trust that the words, feelings, and inspiration, won’t leave me, even if I have to leave them for a minute, hours, or for days.
 
I’m currently working on a haiku collection. Haiku has been a constant companion for over 20 years. I am haiku’s muse. And because of this poetry form, I have developed and taught writing classes, started haiku graffiti, which connected me with the street artist community, and became a leather worker. This collection is haiku’s most recent ask of me and so far, it’s been slow moving, though I do have a first draft sent back to me from my editor.
 
Since my daughter’s birth two months ago, I’ve worked on it a total of zero hours, ten minutes, zero seconds. My hope at this winter’s workshop is to workshop the hell out of my manuscript and move it from its zygotic stage to, at the very least, embryotic. I’m excited and confident that being around other writers will strengthen my parenting by giving me the surroundings and community that bring me joy and re-inspire my creativity.