Dear people of the world, ahem, I mean Substack: I promise I haven’t been ignoring you. Actually, strike that. I have. Not you, specifically, but Substack. Between moving Inlandia out of our Upland office and the usual ramping up of programs that happens at the beginning of the new year, I had to step away for a bit. No, I’m not writing today to announce my triumphant return. But listen. It’s okay.
Something I did do for myself is sign up for a memoir incubator workshop to kick start my process this year. And I’ve carved out a writing nook in the library (my husband has dubbed it my “hideabrary”) downstairs which is essentially just a corner where all of my Ikea bookcases are lined up, behind an L-shaped configuration of room dividers. All of my research materials are close at hand, even if I did have to move the ones I had on the desk to make room for the cat.
I’m currently working against several temporary but annoying challenges: recent carpal tunnel release surgery; a cat sitting in front of my laptop, between my arm as I type; and the letter a key which seems to be failing. But I will not be deterred!
Not by reconnecting the printer (just did this).
Or taking pictures of my space to post here (also just did this).
Or fetching tea (also done).
Or checking email for the -nth time today (NOT doing this again. NOT NOT NOT.)
Because I need to give myself time to work on this book.
No, not give. Allot. Apportion. Prioritize. Calendar, like a real thing. Because it is.
Now, having made this commitment, I will commence working on the book.
But not until I have taken one more selfie with the cat.