(the title seems especially appropriate since the book occurs on the eve of All Saints Day)
I finished my book and turned it in (late) on Saturday. That’s been a trend with this book, and pretty much everything else lately. It’s LATE. On the one hand, I hate it. On the other hand, it’s a freaking pandemic. Sue me.
Sunday, of course, was a super lazy day. Lots of “I’m FREEEEEE!!” and a total inability to settle into anything else.
It’s a wonderful feeling, and also such a let-down, when I turn in a book. It’s done! It’s done! I’m free! I…what am I supposed to do with myself? Oh, there’s a list of life things I’ve been putting off to get the last bit done? I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to go out, either, I’m supposed to be…well, no, I guess I’m not supposed to be writing? What is this vacation you speak of?
And I just kind of spin through that, over and over, for a while, until I manage to settle into some other writing project–probably just in time for the manuscript to come back from whoever is editing it.
So yeah. That’s fun.
In Other News
I’m plotting NaNo. Not my NaNovel, just how in this world or the next to get myself to stick with the program the whole month. Lately I start NaNo all enthused, and then just get lost in my life two weeks in, and once again I don’t finish NaNo. I don’t like it. So I’m pondering how to do better at that.
Really, I’m pondering how to do better at a lot of things. I’m still doing the Flight Manual! But I’m thinking on how to change it, because it’s just not going great for me. It’s better than it was–but it needs to get better still.
Maybe if I did more of the things I write down in it…?
Naw…