Finally, My Perfect Weather Arrives

It might be the first time in my life that I remember the weather suddenly coinciding with the way we measure the seasons. First day of fall, and I’m putting on my fleece-lined lounge pants and making my own pumpkin spice latte. Anything hotter than 70 degrees and I’m basically incapacitated, so after drowning in the humid bowl of the Miami Valley for five months, I cry with real physical relief when I wake up to 41 degrees. I really do belong in Northern Europe.

Book 1 is off to the editor, and I’m just a few thousand words away from finishing the base draft of Book 2. Book 3 is a nebulous thing I can’t think about yet unless I want to damage my tender brain for good. I think I discovered that my writing process is to immerse myself in the writing in such a way that I must completely abandon absolutely everything else in my life for several weeks, followed by mental recovery and playing catch-up on my many non-writing tasks.

I’m not saying it works. I’m just saying that’s what happens.

So, when I finish this base draft in a few days, I’ll put it aside for a week while I tackle a huge list of house things that need to be done and books I need to read before sending them to my mom. And then maybe I’ll go to an escape room. I’ve never been interested in escape rooms, but my characters are, and I should probably get some details right. I just don’t understand how my concern about handing over my phone to a stranger and letting them lock me in a room is considered irrational. It’s like voluntarily walking into the beginning of a horror movie. It is the height of white people nonsense.

Other than that, things are going along as usual. Had to cancel my trip overseas because our HVAC emergency earlier this year ate into my travel savings and I wasn’t able to recover any of it. So if anyone wants to be a dear and pay for me to travel, to them or elsewhere, know that that’s basically my dream and I’m not above groveling. I have permission to find a sugar daddy if need be.