Silly me who thought that I'd actually get things DONE on vacation. I mean, what was I thinking? I brought my laptop and a stack of paperwork. I didn't even bring a book. So what did I do when I had spare moments at my in-laws' in Texas? I (re)read my mother-in-law's copy of Catching Fire.
So, between traveling and Suzanne Collins, I've been blog absent much longer than I anticipated. So much for my smashing return two weeks ago.
However, I am back to normal life. Summer-that-I-don't-care-much-for is almost over and autumn-that-I-love is around the corner. I think my muse works better in the autumn weather. Last autumn I wrote my rough draft. And this autumn...
I am going to finish my book.
This isn't a goal. It's just a fact. Am I being overly optimistic? See, my son is starting preschool this fall. That's three mornings a week to write...assuming my baby girl remains the easily appeased, tranquil, and content person she is. (Seriously, if she's an easy baby, does that mean she'll also be an easy teenager? Hmmmmm? Anyone?)
While I'm excited for the open mornings, I am a little anxious about sending my son off into the world. (A little over dramatic perhaps?) But I've always been there to explain things to him. How will he ever manage alone?!?
Okay, he'll manage. I know. He's a smart kid. He did just tell me that he had four speeches in his tummy, and he needed to talk them out.
I told him I had one book in my tummy that I needed to write out.