I’m beginning to suspect that my quest for some kind of normalcy or balance is my form of tilting at windmills. Then I run across today’s quote from Vincent Van Gogh and am reminded that when we’re comfortable and follow the expected path, it’s entirely too easy to take the subtle and the creative for granted.
So this weekend I affirmed my participation in the Virtual Writers’ Workshop and started collecting the words I will have my fellow participants critique. It’s a little nerve-wracking to try to explain where I am in the Red Slaves series, and how I got there … and that I really should be adding another 2K words to what I have currently written to take full advantage of a captive beta reading audience.
I did actually add a few words to my MS this week (137, to be exact) on the one night I wasn’t so wiped out or otherwise occupied as to be unable to put coherent words on a page. That pace does not bode well for a speedy completion of the next 25,000 or so words needed to finish the trilogy. But then hubs forwarded a link that reminds me of why I’m fascinated by cryptohistory, and makes me wonder whether dragons and other mystical beasties might one day be proven true–supporting what seems to be my leitmotif across stories: That magic is real, if we but have the eyes to see it.
The goal for this round that I’ve now officially beaten: Posting book reviews. Three are already live, and the fourth one is written and waiting for the official release date of Leaving Berlin later this week. I have a few more books I’d like to review, too, so the Wednesday review schedule might become an actual thing.
Mostly, though, we’ve both been under the weather. Again. Which led to the decision to take the furbabies to playtime for the day yesterday in order to be able to catch up on sleep. (I’m actually going to count toward that date night goal, because… CUDDLES!) It seems to have helped at least some, but tonight’s ice storm, following the sub-zero temps and snow of the past week have meant none of us has had the exercise that keeps us healthiest. And means walking happened once, last Sunday, for less than a mile.
I’m feeling like this round may just be my catching-up-with-myself time–keeping some of those big goals in sight, but mostly nibbling around the edges of them while I acclimate to and fully settle into what our new life in this new place looks and feels like.
So I encourage you to visit the other ROW80ers to see how they’re doing, and think about how you measure your own progress–whether it comes in regular chunks, or more intermittently.