I’m not going to lie. I love the audio version of Coffee & Ghosts. Narrator Amy McFadden is superb. She somehow hijacked my mind and made the characters sound the way they do in my head. I still don’t understand how she did that. Anyway, if you’re interested, you can get a great deal for the next four days.
Brief update today, as I’ve seemed to have picked up a slight summer cold.
Admin day worked well this past week. I ended up scoring another Chirp deal, and I’m pleased about that.
I (nearly) finished the revision of the bonus novella (which has a name: The Capstone Conundrum). I have one or two notions that I want to add, but then I’m moving on to The Pansy Paradox.
Because … I’m thinking I can publish both The Pansy Paradox and The Capstone Conundrum this October. Fingers crossed.
And, of course, a duckling check-in. Look how they’ve grown!
This week, I tried something a little bit different. I decided to take an admin day during the week, one where I didn’t write, but used that morning focus time for writing and publishing-related tasks instead.
Usually, I’d tackle one or two of those after my writing session. But you know what? After my writing session (about 3 – 4 hours of deep work), my brain is done. I don’t want to sit at the computer and do more stuff. It’s enough to clear out my email, comment on a blog post or two, and then head outside.
So, I thought, why not try an admin day during the week, use that focus time to knock out several publishing and personal admin tasks. Not only will I get things done (that need doing), but I can bring fresh energy to the tasks.
Additionally, if I schedule the day mid-week, I can also let my subconscious do some story simmering as well.
I think this might work. At any rate, I’m going to experiment with one admin day per week this month and evaluate the results once July arrives.
In other news? Well, ducklings!
Mama duck and all her ducklings, in a pond along the park/nature trail
I’ve been experimenting with time management and how I want my days to look like now that I can set my own schedule.
One thing is becoming clear:
There’s wisdom in taking weekends and time off.
Back in January and February, I was writing seven days a week. I was so darn excited to have the time and head space (especially the head space) to write. Book two was simply waiting for the cognitive overload from my corporate job to clear out so I could write.
Then, I needed a break. I know this about myself. I’m what Becca Syme calls a bread machine writer. In her article Why Isn’t This Easier, she writes about bread machines (the writers, not the appliance):
Your brain is wired like a bread machine, so the easier books to work on are the ones where you’ve had more time to put all the ingredients inside the machine and let it sit for a long time. But when you become a professional writer (even if you’re not writing full-time), you don’t get to spend years thinking about a book, unless you’re GRRM. So, when you take away part of the way your brain functions creatively best, it becomes more and more difficult to complete the process.
I need time to think, both long term—hey, I’ve been musing on The Pansy Paradox and the series for a decade, y’all—and short term.
So, maybe it’s an afternoon when I head to the garden center and look at all the plants (I know, I know; I’m running out of space.) Maybe it’s a trip to Half-Price Books to restock the Little Free Library.
In any case, I’m taking a conscious look at my schedule. I’m questioning why I do things when I do them and considering whether there’s a better way for me to do what I want and need to do.
Today? The siren song of the garden center is calling my name. (Can you hear it? I can definitely hear it.) Yesterday was the Guthrie Theater and Agatha Christie’s The Mousetrap.
All in all, not a bad weekend. (And would you look at the Mississippi. We got a lot of rain last week.)
So in the past few days, we left behind the false summer and time-traveled back to early spring. It’s rainy and cool and that’s okay because we desperately need the rain around here. Along with the heat, there were wind and fire warnings.
Bring on the rain. (And the writing: it’s a good excuse to stay inside.)
Speaking of rainy days, here’s a view of a couple from Florence:
The Ponte Vecchio is always amazing, even in the rain (and it was raining, hard).
Il Caffe del Verone is on the top floor of the Istituto degli Innocenti. This view, even in the rain. So worth it. Also, the cappuccino didn’t hurt.
In a week of meetings, appointments, getting my daughter’s car to the shop, there was this:
Ruby-throated hummingbird
This tiny burst of joy showed up in less than twenty-four hours after I put out the hummingbird feeder. Not sure they’re nesting yet. However, one did do a hover and hello when I was working in the garden this week.
Speaking of the garden, that’s where I’m headed right now to uncover—or plant—other bursts of joy. So I’m keeping this check-in short today. My writing this week was slow, steady, and positive, although not very flashy.
So, it’s been four months since my last day of work, which is as good a time as any for a reality check.
How’s it going?
When I first started to think about this milestone, I believed I hadn’t done enough. What was “enough”? Oh, I don’t know. How about completely drafting my series, publishing book 1 and the companion novella, not to mention reacquainting myself with Photoshop for covers and images, and …
And that was a totally unrealistic view of things. But it’s the sort of toxic productivity mindset born from: if you’re not hustling and grinding eighteen hours a day, what good are you.
What I actually did:
Finished the draft of book 2
Sketched out the content and structure of book 3
Contemplated another bonus novella
Cleaned out the bedroom closet
Spring cleaned
Planned and took a dream trip to Italy
This doesn’t include what I did this past week: I jumped back into book 1 to refine and edit based on changes from drafting book 2 and the trip to Italy. Also? Add in some bonus gardening.
Then, on Thursday, I learned that my former workplace conducted another layoff two and a half years after the one that set me on the path to burnout and had me quitting.
That previous layoff diminished the department by at least 50%. Mind you, the work did not decrease by that amount. Now? I doubt the work is going away. (Unless they plan to use GenAI, in which case, good luck with that when it starts hallucinating.)
But I wondered, would I have been caught up in the layoff this time around, like (at least) one of my friends was? Or would I’ve been retained and watched my workload quadruple?
Would those extra four months have been worth a severance package?
And I realized, no, they wouldn’t have been. Even with the current economy, which I won’t lie, is making me very nervous for various reasons. I wouldn’t have the draft of book 2. I only started making progress after I quit. I wouldn’t have the structure and content of book 3.
I wouldn’t have taken a dream trip to Italy. Or, if I had managed to, it would have been shorter and constrained by having to check work email on the regular.
I don’t know what the future holds. But in this particular instance?
It probably comes as no surprise that I fell in love not only with Italian coffee but those adorable Bialetti coffeemakers as well.
I was, however, on the fence about buying one; I wasn’t entirely certain I’d have room in my suitcase. But on my last day, I decided to take the chance that I could wedge it into my suitcase and headed for the Bialetti store in Pisa.
As it turns out, when you buy a Bialetti, you get a discount on coffee to go with it. Would signora like some coffee as well? Since the sales clerk had just brewed me a sample of that coffee, who was I to say no? I might as well go all in with the coffee and coffeemaker.
And, as it turns out, yet again, my purchase reached a threshold where I could get a substantial discount on another item. What was this item?
An umbrella. For a mere 3,50 euro.
Did signora want the umbrella as well?
People, people. An umbrella. As some of you know, umbrellas—in particular, sentient umbrellas—play a big role in The Pansy Paradox.
So, yes, signora absolutely wanted the umbrella as well.
My Bialetti coffeemaker and my new (sentient) umbrella.
If it had been anything else? Maybe not. Although the sales clerk clearly had my number at this point, so probably.
So, during my last weekend in Italy, I embraced that Italian motto (as noted on my umbrella): the sweetness of doing nothing.
It was pouring down rain. The following day promised sunshine, and I planned to head for Florence. But right then, Pisa was damp, dank, and dark. So, I did what the Italians do. I honored the afternoon break time. I brewed some fennel tea, curled up, and read for a few hours.
Bed & Breakfast cozy.
By early evening, the rain had stopped, and I wandered into the city center for something to eat.
Another deal: Aperol Spritz and a Margherita pizza for 10 euro.
Well, for the last few months, my daughter has been working as an au pair in Italy. Several weeks back, I was at my desk, staring at the bleak view out the window, and wondered: Why on earth am I sitting here in Minnesota?
Good question.
So, I started researching whether I could swing a trip to Italy. Turns out that I could. I found a reasonable flight, a bed and breakfast in Pisa (a quick train ride for my daughter and near many of the places I wanted to visit). Then, I made the fateful decision to click Book Now.
And perhaps it’s a coincidence or a bit of synchronicity, but there are portions of The Pansy Paradox series that take place in Italy. I’m beginning to suspect my subconscious knew—long before I did—that I needed to walk the ground for some of those portions.
I’m hoping to write more about my time there. Not so much a travelogue, which sounds boring to read, never mind write. But the odd and unusual and fun. Things that relate to the series I’m writing. Things that made me see something in a different light.
But first, some firsts:
First photo in Europe:
Sunrise over Frankfurt, Germany as we made our descent
First photo of Pisa:
View of Pisa along the Arno River
First flower:
Pansies in a container along the Borgo Stretto in Pisa
Yes, pansies were everywhere in Pisa and Florence. I took that as a sign.
I’m embarking on a project that will make it difficult to do a check-in these next few weeks. But I’ll be back with a full report—or, at least, an update.
In the meantime, I hope March is tiptoeing out like a lamb wherever you are—rather than the rather rude lion we have here today.
Writing Wrongs 