Tell me about the early days when the kids were little and you began writing a novel. Was it as haphazard and chaotic as I imagine? (Because it’s a zoo here, and I have one less child, the older ones are spaced farther apart, and I don’t homeschool.)

It was chaotic. I knew going in none of it would be neat and tidy. I’ll be honest, some days all my expectations did was expose my delusion. Some days I handled interruptions well. Some days I didn’t. But motherhood is a game of inches. You don’t teach order once, you teach it daily. You don’t teach hygiene once, you teach it daily. You don’t teach manners once, you teach it daily. It’s the same with my personal goals. What mattered to my writing is that I did something daily. Once I organized my time and household, made a plan and stuck to it, I got those ten minutes in. I also learned to be content with low expectations. If you can get through the day and say, everyone ate something, the house didn’t burn down and we didn’t go to the ER, so it was a good day. But now my kids are older and the lessons I taught them about order and hygiene and manners are paying off because they can basically run the house without me. My increments for writing are much, much longer.