I swear August is twice as long as any month in the year. Maybe it was looking forward to the beginning of the school year, or waiting for the end of summer quarter, but it felt like a long month.
And now what’s happened? The weather has turned cool, my son has traded his sandals and shorts for shoes, socks, and pants, and September has finally arrived.
I love this time of year. That hasn’t changed – I used to be more of a solar-powered girl, but lately it’s been getting too intense and I prefer the cooler, woolier days of autumn.
The side benefit of early September is that I am doing my own personal Septembowrimo. I’ve been working hard on slogging through my novel so I can get it out. It has been two years, much longer than I wanted to pass between Bento Box coming out and Typhon. I think that at the end of the day it will be a better book for the wait, but I don’t think that consumers typically feel that way.
It has been a time of reorganization. My writers group is undergoing some changes, as we try to tool our gang into a bunch of editors as well as writers. It’s going to make the whole group grow as a result, but of course there’s always the uncomfortable elbowing and resettling that comes with a big change like this.
I am also learning what it’s like to take more breaks. I’m terrible for it. I have so much to do on any given day that I push my way through the day without any thought to the condition my brain is going to be in at the end of it. I have to figure out a way to restructure my day to include time off. I feel guilty for saying it, I spent years going at this pace without any trouble. However, I have reached the age of, “I am too old for this bullshit,” and I might as well wear that badge with pride. I have a lot to do, it’s never going to go away, but maybe some of it isn’t the priority I once gave it.
I imagine things will still continue to get done.