After a Hiatus

I’ve been fine …

I’ve just been very busy. That’s something built in to the month of April at a university — finishing class instruction, grading end-of-semester assignments, shepherding interns through the search and sign-up processes. And then there are the plants and the gardens. I think I have over-committed, but as always, it’s how I roll.

Feeling the breezes of Spring

This is the first Spring semester I can say has flown by quickly, even though we had inconvenient snowfall through March and even into April. Today the apple blossoms sway outside my office window and my youngest cat, Chloe, stares out.

Chloe turns 1 today, so perhaps she’s celebrating.

I’ll be celebrating soon. By the end of the week, I will be in full summer mode, where I have about 1/4 of the work I normally have, with a largely open schedule for three months. This means time to blog, to organize my thoughts, and to get past thinking about writing into actually writing.

Winter is behind me. Time to enjoy.

On My Way Home

As vacations go …

As vacations go, this has been one of the best. After over a year without a vacation, I couldn’t do better than a couple relaxing days at a spa. I got a bunch of queries out with my new and improved cover letter, and I’ve gotten to realize that I need to do some daydreaming in with my writing/marketing. Need to break the non-writing loop.

My body is more relaxed than it has been for a year. The COVID tension has fallen from me and I finally feel like the world is recovering (note — I have gotten fully vaccinated). I’ve returned to writing in the tiled lobby of the Elms, and things feel near normal.

Wouldn’t it be nice?

Wouldn’t it be nice to hold a writers’ retreat here? I mean a writers’ retreat with more than one writer (me) in the house. There’s atmosphere, wine, dining, a spa, and those couches with built-in outlets in them. I don’t know what would make this a more perfect space. Not big enough for a large writers’ conference, but enough for a sweet retreat.

Me, a writer?

As I wrote that, I really wondered if I had the qualifications to be a writer. You’d think it was easy — I’ve written, I’ve published. But I have a large chunk of impostor syndrome because I’m also a professor. My works haven’t sold much. I have plenty of excuses to discount my qualifications as a writer.

But if I can spend a couple days writing at a picturesque (and relatively inexpensive) hotel and spa like The Elms, I think I can call myself a writer.

A Time for Nothing

I’m done putting together my classes for Spring, which was my task for the winter break. Now what? My mind is all for relaxing and hiding from my work in progress, but I’ll probably do something with that during break.

I feel like I could sleep forever. I just got up and I’m already wanting to go back to bed. I don’t know if this is latent depression or I’m just so relieved to be done with the semester that I’m catching up on time without thinking.

The semester must have been far worse than I’m registering. I tend to be stoic and plow through the semester with blinders on, not stopping to lament much (other than my lamenting about lack of writers’ retreats in these pages).

And now, because of COVID, I have no choice but to relax. No visit to my dad and sister, no going out shopping, maybe a stop at the Board Game Cafe if it’s not crowded, but …

So I’m working on relaxing.