I ended up doing a lot of house cleaning this weekend. I’m not close to being finished, but I’m an indifferent housekeeper at best, so there’s an awful lot to go through. (I can walk into my laundry room now, so yay for small victories.)
I’ve had a lot on my mind anyway, but the holiday season always ends up stressing me out for various reasons. So, cleaning it is. Or really, throwing stuff away, which is just as cathartic in some ways. Though somewhat painful too, since I decided I was going to go through *everything* – and that includes a number of boxes that I haven’t touched since my mom died.
So, yeah – cheery thought, I know, but I’ve been oscillating back and forth the last few days between something like relief and a mega shame-spiral over the book thing. (Which I realize is silly, but there it is. I’m not planning on dwelling on it here – that just becomes an exercise in self-defeating angst, and I don’t have time for that.)
The good news is whatever bit of writer’s blockage I’ve been sitting under appears to have been lifted. Mostly because I knew what was probably coming and my brain has a tendency not to want to be particularly creative under those circumstances. Internal fretting, I guess. So there’s an element of freedom to this, I guess – one of those “breadth of possibilities” things, though I’m not sure if that’s right either, but I like the way the new project has been sitting on my mind the way it has.
Been a while.
Anyway. New Fox & Willow up today. (Getting kinda violent now, like all the best fairy tales. :))