“You have five young children at home. How on God’s green earth are you finding time to write novels? In 2020, no less!”

People often ask me this question. Those of you who have visited Casa Ortiz understand exactly why. We have a loud and rambunctious crew and some challenging family dynamics, owing to children with special needs. And now they are home. All the time.

Actual footage.

“How are you finding time to work?” is a fair question.

I can rattle off the usual responses: supportive spouse, outside help, limited hobbies, coffee, Disney/Pixar, low housekeeping expectations, proper psychiatric care, and stubborn determination. How does anyone find time to do anything? Like most writers, I work around the edges.

But my real secret to getting work done?

Answer: Two stanzas from a prayer by St. Thomas Aquinas.

Grant that I may
never crave to do things impulsively,
nor disdain to do what is burdensome,

Lest I begin things before I should
or abandon them before finishing.

(St. Thomas Aquinas, “To Acquire the Virtues,” from The Aquinas Prayer Book.)

Writing is both a natural fit and a vocation. I’m intuitive, sensitive, idealistic, artistic, and analytical—all good traits for a storyteller to have. The hours I spend writing, alone and in silence, feel like mere minutes. But I’m also impulsive. I often overcommit myself. I hyperfocus on fun tasks but cannot stay focused on boring ones. Sometimes I’m so lost in thought, I forget to type. (Can you tell I have ADHD?) I overthink things, I panic, I procrastinate, I wallow in discouragement, and sometimes I fail to finish what I’ve set out to do.

In order to write, I have to do battle with myself.

Some days I win. Some days I lose.

I pray St. Thomas’ words often.

God answers.

All is grace. That’s my secret.

Today, the Solemnity of All Saints, is one of my favorite days on the liturgical calendar. I love the saints. And while we celebrate individual saints throughout the year, today we recognize everyone who did their utmost to walk in Christ’s footsteps, even the unknown ones.

Heaven is close; they hear our prayers. With the angels, they lift those prayers up before the throne of God. The prayers of holy men and women are powerful. How much more powerful are the prayers of those in heaven! They see their Maker and have been brought into union with the Holy Trinity. Their holiness has been made complete. They want what God wants, and therefore their prayers are even more effective.

My best days of writing are the ones in which I invoke the help of my guardian angel and the prayers of the saints. Most writers, religious and secular, understand that (a) there’s something otherworldly about the practice of writing, and (b) there are forces that work to sabotage our efforts— Resistance, as Steven Pressfield puts it. And because writers live in their heads, the struggle against Resistance is often an interior one—a war against our own worst selves. Writing, and bringing that writing to completion, requires virtue, grace, and the help of others. In short, God is at work, whether the storyteller acknowledges Him or not. And Christians believe that intercessory prayer—that is, when we pray for each other—is how God involves us in the working out of His will.

I am grateful for the saints. I am especially grateful to my writing posse:

Holy Mary, Mother of God
St. Joseph
Holy Father Dominic (founder of the Order of Preachers, of which I am a lay member)
St. Catherine of Siena
St. Thomas Aquinas (who is particularly close to my current project)
St. Albert the Great
St. Mary of Egypt (my confirmation saint)
St. Francis de Sales (patron of writers)
St. John the Evangelist (another patron of writers)
St. Therese of Lisieux
St. John Paul II (who loved artists and was a writer himself)
St. Gianna Molla
St. Joan of Arc
Blessed Franz Jagerstatter
and the angelic help of St. Gabriel the Archangel and my guardian angel, who is fond of the four o’clock hour and often wakes me up, regardless of my alarm (I’m dead serious.)

This is my crew. In putting this out here, I’m aware that many of you will think I’m certifiably nuts. (And they would be right! Competent but crazy—my Scripture for the Scrupulous meditations provide ample evidence.) Perhaps saintly intercession is something only Catholic and Orthodox Christians understand. So be it. Point is, the saints accompany me in my writing, and they are cheering all of us on.

All Saints, pray for us.