Tag: summer vacation

Where I’d Like to Be Right Now

I’m sitting at home again today, cowering in the air conditioning because “it’s going to be another hot one,” in Midwest parlance. I’m listening to playlists that help me concentrate, hoping they’ll inspire me to finish the last three chapters of Carrying Light.

Photo by Kaique Rocha on Pexels.com

There’s a list of where I’d like to be right now:

  • At The Elms, enjoying time in the Grotto;
  • At Broadway Cafe in Kansas City with noise in the background;
  • At Wild Horse Pass resort in Arizona having a drink in the swimming pool;
  • In a cabin at Mozingo Lake, on a writing retreat;
  • Sitting on a couch anywhere that doesn’t encourage slouching;
  • At a cat cafe, self-explanatory;
  • In a camper at Mozingo Lake, just because it would be different;
  • At Starved Rock State Park, except for all the crowds.

Where I do not want to be:

  • OUTSIDE.

The Calm Before the Storm



Right now, it’s the calm before the storm for me — school starts in two weeks, and I’m taking what I like to call my vacation, which is a blessed period of doing absolutely nothing important. Time enough to get worked up about immersing myself in small-room teaching for a high risk clientele that doesn’t mask.


But I’m not falling completely fallow. Yesterday, I attempted to get rid of my writers’ block by submitting a few pieces to literary journals through Submittable. This was recommended to me through a graphic artist at Gateway Con as a way to wait out finding an agent and publisher. 


I have gotten a couple publications this way — mostly on web sites, an honorable mention on a major journal (on a story that was very much genre fantasy!), and a couple other journals and zines. So surprising to me that my work is finding traction. 

So today I will be doing something. Submitting more materials, writing flash fiction, getting back to my book, sending a query letter in for more critique. Something to do with writing.

Daydreaming a Summer Break



Sorry to keep you all waiting, but I had to finish grading final exams for my last class. I’m officially done with my semester, which if you read yesterday’s post, doesn’t feel like an ending at all. I’m wondering if going tent camping in my backyard would feel like a vacation. At my age, it would probably feel like torture.

Honestly, if I could afford a travel trailer, I’d park it out at the nearby park for the summer just to feel like I’d gotten away from people. I like that idea — it would make a perfect writing retreat. Home away from home, and even wifi (not excellent wifi, but passable). 

A cabin out in the woods would be nice. If it had wifi. I need to have my internet to monitor students and the like. 

I’m just not ready to break the shelter-in-place and be in space with lots of people. I’m certainly not going to take the face mask off the few times I’m anywhere near people. 

It just doesn’t feel like summer without my little writing retreat.

The Seasonless Year under COVID-19



I can’t tell what season it is.

In academia, we have a defined year with three seasons. It starts in fall with the first day of classes, and fall semester ends with Christmas. In January, the spring semester rolls around, and it’s of slightly different character than fall semester, lacking the tinsel and greens of December and adding the bacchanalia of Spring Break. The school year ends at the beginning of May, and even though I supervise internships and take an online course for my Disaster Mental Health certification, the change in routines — no faculty meetings, flexible schedule, time to take a vacation — marks that a season has passed. Until the end of summer, when we start preparing our classes for the school year.

I have no such thing this year.

We started online classes in March, which made the school year feel like an endless prep period, typing on our computers and missing the face-to-face interaction. I’m answering emails from students at 9 PM and at 5 AM, so I feel like I’m always working. We’re going from that to summer — but the freedom of travel has evaporated with COVID-19’s sequestering.  So I’ll spend the summer working with my interns online using Zoom, and the flexibility of my time will not matter. Days are melting into a sameness, and that sameness is work without any defined boundaries. 

I admit that I’m getting a decent amount of writing done because I have to do something with the time I’m not working on student stuff. And I’m grateful that I can shelter in place, as my age and weight makes me at risk for a more severe infection. But I find my rejoicing at summer terribly muted, because there is no summer. I wonder when there will be a summer again.

A reading that seems to corroborate my current feelings:
https://theconversation.com/will-covid-19-be-the-death-of-summer-vacation-135776