Last week we got a Christmas Tree and put it up on Friday – tying it to the wall, because it was the first time the ‘kittens’ (now a year old) had seen a tree in the house. As far as we know, they didn’t climb it. The next day lights went up on it. Then the next day we decorated the tree and filled the house and windows with as many lights as we could manage. Still no damage other than a few unbreakable ornaments strewn about. They’re more interested in messing up the fabric beneath the tree, despite the photo of Tiger messing around. Woot!
So now my evenings are filled with multi-colored lights and the scent of fir needles. And candles. As I try to catch up on everything. I finished the novel a couple of days before Thanksgiving and threw myself into a frenzy of socializing. After that it took two weeks before my energy level returned. And with it any sort of enthusiasm about getting things done. I did finish the book club book – ‘Wool’ by Hugh Howey – which fascinated me. Loved his characters. But after that it was just yesterday that I wanted to actually read something besides the interweebs and the newspaper. I couldn’t even commit to watching an entire movie for a week. Which told me the obvious, I was mentally exhausted from splitting six weeks of novel-writing and everyday life.
I really enjoy being immersed in another world when I’m working on a novel and it’s beyond frustrating to keep being pulled out of it by “Mom, what do I need to do next?” or it’s time to feed cats, or what are we having for dinner and when do I need to deal with that? Oh and is there money for gas? Other stuff I can let go of for a month or two – when the dust puppies and hair bunnies get knee high I just stop inviting people over. My life contracts to the novel and I ignore anything I can, because like most people, I don’t have a nanny, maid or housekeeper.
Then once the novel is done (well, the first draft anyway) and I recover (which has taken far too long this time!) my life begins to expand. The level of cleanliness or lack thereof hits my radar. One strand of lights in the house had a spider web on it overnight. Not that I’ve done anything about it, but I did notice it. Books are beginning to look interesting again. My brain has been looking for things to do – like update websites, plan the future, think about what plants need to be moved out in the garden, and maybe even the budget.
Most importantly as my gaze expands I’ve been thinking about what I want to write next. I’ve had a great writing year so far and made my goals. Between all my pen names, I’ve written and published twenty-five novels, collections and stories. With a few weeks to spare. So still time for a couple of short stories. But I’m taking a break from deadlines for the year. I need a few weeks of serious play and if that includes writing then so be it.
For the rest of the month I’m going to try to do what I want to do at the time. Maybe I’ll get out into the garden. I made a couple of wreaths, made some very cool Christmas gifts (which are sekrit) and perused my pathetic wardrobe. I’ve been drawing with felt tips again, rearranging my work area with various cool rocks I’ve collected over the years and contemplating shopping. Which seriously starts today. I love shopping – far too much which is why I don’t do it very often. I might even get to the thrift stores, which actually are more fun than new stores. It’s like a big treasure hunt. I might even find that special ‘crystal plate/piece of jewelry/something or other’ that I’ve been looking for.
Anyway, this post is way too long already. Time for me to head out and play.