27: strange and sunny days
Greetings, darlings, here I am on Friday as promised.
This won't be as epic as last week, I don't think. And I'm pleased to report this was a more productive week. Is it because I took measures or is it because we've had a run of unseasonably sunny, warm days? Or both? Probably both. Anyway, I realized I'd been experiencing a quiet crisis of confidence in my work for no good reason -- too close, not getting enough done because of the madness, and also just that spiral of doubt and "is this the right project? no what about this one? what if I have no judgment anymore?" that can take hold in the writer's mind so. easily. It's so very easy to convince yourself everything is dire and find yourself moaning in the kitchen, "I'm all washed up, I may as well just perfect a busking skill of some sort," even though you know that none of your skills are busk-worthy, you would be busk-screwed, etc etc. It happens to all of us, at least I think it does. Don't tell me if it doesn't happen to you.
But sunshine. A walk in the clear not-so-cold air. Not checking the phone every five minutes. Going to aerial yoga twice, yay. Eating more mindfully, drinking more mindfully. Reading. Playing with the dogs. Taking Izzy to the dog park for an extra romp every afternoon, so she doesn't drive Puck crazy (he comes on the less heavily-trafficked days so as not to eat anyone).
(This is how Izzy stands beside my desk when she wants to go walkies or to the dog park. Sometimes goofier, but always smiling.)
And also, writing a better version of a synopsis, stepping back to think about the things I love about a book I'm working on, reading the pages and realizing -- gasp -- I actually am really really excited to do this one. So get back to work, right? Chop, chop. I like BOTH books I'm working on so much, actually, but the MG is sold already and so less stressful. I had a good talk with my agent too, which always helps, and so yay, onward, forward, no more moaning for the moment. Writers write. That's it.
Writers also panic, but the only thing that stops the panic is the writing. So you write. And it is better.
I also did an impromptu political action, which felt so good and useful that it muted my sense of panic about the larger world (muted, not took away gah I watched that whole presser yesterday and despaired/think this might be a pocket universe -- Christopher came home while I had it on and was like, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" all concerned and I said, "I know, I started and I can't stop until it's over. It has to end, right? RIGHT?"). I happened to spot a friend -- former bookstore events coordinator, natch, bookstore people for the win -- posting on Facebook about a meeting in Rand Paul's local office set up by our newly formed local Indivisible chapter. It was an hour from that moment and I was in my pajamas at my desk, so I found out from twitter where the location was (thanks, Scalzi, for your google fu) and hurriedly got dressed and called a Lyft (C takes the car to the bookstore each day) and off I went. Everyone was so well-informed, the staff were polite and informed and engaged. And I think I contributed to the meeting -- I'm not intimidated by situations like this, because I worked adjacent to them for so long, and because speaking the truth is not something I'm afraid of, ever. It's my superpower, as I said to someone after the meeting.
Will it do any good? I think reminding politicians you're out there, up close and personal, as constituents is always good. And I had a copy of the bullet points version of Rand Paul's terrible healthcare plan the day before the House reps rolled it out, so I could talk (as I did in the meeting) about how unsound it is yesterday. And urge a town hall, which we also did. Why would reps be afraid of these right now if they didn't know we had many many points? They do. But hey, I give them credit for sending real staff to meet with us.
Here's a selfie as we headed in (I was not sideways, but tinyletter isn't cooperating on using my photos right-side up and I'm too lazy to go fix them or something):
So that was good. Democracy!
And I had two events this past week, both of which were with pals and so v. fun. Sarah Combs and I read at the InKY series in Louisville and then had a chat afterward (Sarah's The Light Fantastic is one of my favorite books last year and one of the best school violence stories I've ever read; you should get it) and then last night I helped welcome Lara Donnelly and her debut Amberlough (fabulous! Cabaret-inspired secondary world fantasy with a rigged election and other timely things) to Joseph-Beth and asked her many questions about it.
(me and Sarah)
(sideways me and Lara)
It was a good week for me, if not a good week for the world in general in many ways. I'm trying to separate the two. It's not always possible. It's never easy.
But the work is getting done. All of it. So.
See you next week!