Our Version of Alone Time

At least for the near future, this is what it looks like from nine to eleven o'clock most nights, our girls soundly tucked away, the living room table cleared of dinner and evening family activities:
I work on my book proposal revision, and Matt works on his homework.

And believe me, it is work. I need to change the entire perspective through which I'd planned to write my book, keeping my authorial voice undamaged while revising according to the constructive criticism that I received ("Talk less about Willow and Sydney" ?!?). Matt, used to years of art done almost entirely on the computer, is having to get used now to the intensive hand-work of his drawing class, and not just the drawing itself, but the tedious and tiresome process of prepping his work surface according to the various requirements of the professor ("Mark your grid with tape cut to 1/8" width" ?!?).

We're working in the mines, my friends, but for a bigger purpose: one of us wants an MFA degree, and the other one of us wants a book deal.

Neither of these, apparently, simply fall out of the sky into one's laps. So be it.