When a New Year Starts Three Weeks Late

I remember last year, waking up on January 1 with a sense of freedom and purpose I hadn’t felt in years. Maybe ever. I was so motivated. I got so much done in those first few weeks of 2022.

It’s not fair to compare this January to last. For one thing, I finally got surgery that’s been on my to-do list for far too long, and I needed these weeks to rest and recuperate and get back to myself. Much Assassin’s Creed was played, and much Golden Girls watched.

Started sending agent queries on December 31, because I wanted to be able to say I got at least a few queries out there in 2022. Sent a few more since then, but now Saturdays will be focused on that, and the rest of the week on revising book 2.

I’m currently working on 43 notes for book 2, down from 52 the other day. One said “this paragraph is bad” and I ended up being able to replace that entire paragraph with the word “but.” But there are several upcoming notes that say “cut this scene and half then combine it with this brand new scene that you have to write that should be three pages or so,” and that’ll take more time.

The Great Reshifting moves apace. Garage and unfinished part of basement are both clean? and? organized? Unprecedented. Finished part of the basement is just a day or two away from also being clean and organized. Then we’ll have space to have guests stay the night as well as space to host game night on our dedicated gaming table. Neither of those things have been true since pre-March 2020.

Despite not selling my manuscript yet, I’m feeling oddly optimistic about everything. Maybe it’s all the cleaning. Maybe it’s finally getting that surgery. Maybe I’m actually good at these things I attempt? Maybe it’s because I started opening the house windows a bit every day and the circulating air heals me. In that case, a vacation should do wonders.