Check-in – Page 3 – Writing Wrongs

Seven months in: another reality check

January 3^rd of this year was my last day of work. After my final check-in with my manager, she told me to go ahead and log off at noon. So I did, and had my work laptop boxed and at FedEx in less than thirty minutes.

Note: It helped that the closest FedEx Office is about two miles away.

I figured that August 3^rd is a good day to do another reality check. So, how’s it going?

In retrospect, pretty good.

I completed two paper edits of The Pansy Paradox and one of the bonus novella, The Capstone Conundrum. Yes, I love me some alliteration.
I’ve sent both books to my proofreader.
I regularly have coffee dates with a friend from my former workplace who is also a writer. This has been wonderful.
I attended the Author Platform Growth Summit, which focused on mindset, resiliency, sustainability, and alignment in an author career, rather than tactics, toxic productivity, and the hustle and grind.
I finally bought my Mac Studio and have dived headfirst into Photoshop.
I completed a read-through of The Marigold Miracle, and now I’m musing and bread-machining my way to a second draft.
I planted my cottage garden.
I’ve been taking lots of long (thinking) walks.

One thing that really stands out: None of the above feels like work. That doesn’t mean it’s without effort, or that I don’t get tired, or overwhelmed by information.

What doesn’t exist anymore in my day-to-day working life is this:

No context switching (h/t Cal Newport). The first thing I do with technology in the day is either write or use Photoshop. No email and no social media. I may have a browser open to a stock image site or Adobe fonts, or whatever. But that’s it.

No hyper-active hive mind and no pseudo productivity (h/t also Cal Newport). I do not miss Microsoft Teams or VPs/senior directors sliding into Teams chat on the regular. I really don’t miss unending email threads where someone copies me on a discussion because it “might” be a documentation issue. (And to be clear, everyone involved would love to make it a documentation issue—well, except documentation.)

So work? Doesn’t feel like work. I do want to stress that I still get tired, still need weekends to give my brain a break. But I don’t get the Sunday scaries. In fact, I really love Monday mornings.

And I couldn’t be more grateful.

Garden this and that

I spent the early hours of the day in the garden, before the heat became unbearable. I ended up soaked in sweat anyway, but it’s the first time I’ve had a chance to do some gardening.

Sadly, my cauliflower and broccoli are no more, thanks to one of the most destructive creatures on earth: tiny baby bunnies. They ate all the leaves and that was that. (And yes, I have the vegetable garden fenced, but baby bunnies are insidious.)

The cucumbers, though, are just fine.

The wall of morning glories I planted for the hummingbirds did not materialize. However, there are plenty of other flowers. Between those and the feeder, the hummingbirds don’t seem to mind the lack of morning glories.

My phlox is blooming despite the fact that deer came through and chomped the tops off a few weeks ago.

My hydrangeas are blooming—I just leave them alone. So far, so good.

It’s pollinator central in the yard—all kinds of bees and other pollinators, and more butterflies this year than I’ve seen in a long time. Despite everything being kind of a mess, I feel like I must be doing something right.

So, my less-than-pristine garden continues to grow. I think there’s a (somewhat obvious) metaphor for writing in all this. It’s messy, unpredictable, doesn’t always turn out the way you expect it to, but it’s always worth it.

The aptly-named bee balm, with mandatory bumble bee

Author Platform Growth Summit

I’ve been attending the virtual Author Platform Growth Summit for the past five days, hosted by the Better-Faster Academy and Becca Syme.

It’s been amazing. But.

My brain is mush.

Still, it was an extraordinary conference. I’m so glad I attended, and now I need to stare at some wildflowers and process all the information.

Returning wildflowers (that we planted last year)

Rainbows, sunsets, and bread machines

So on Monday evening, the sky decided to present us with this:

A rainbow to the east and a sunset to the west!

I’ve been decidedly in bread machine mode with book two (The Marigold Miracle). I’ve been reviewing the draft—slowly—making notes, and then letting everything simmer or churn or do whatever it is my brain does when I’m not paying attention.

It’s nice to really embrace and refine my bread-machine way of writing. I already have some (what I hope are) nifty ideas for draft two. When I wrote the original draft, I knew that the initial scenes would not be the first scenes of the book. But, at the time, I simply needed a way into the story and those scenes worked for that.

It’s not flashy, but I’m pleased with this progress. I’ve also made a dent in all those Photoshop tutorials as well this week. And since the air quality here is awful and I’m stuck inside, that’s what I’m going to do next.

Cottage Garden aspirations

Photo essay incoming.

So last year, I wanted to do something about this:

Once upon a time, this space was filled with hostas and day lilies. It wasn’t inspiring landscaping, but it worked. Over the years, it became a catch-all for a wide range of things. You can see the indent from the free-standing basketball hoop. But this space is where things got tossed—roofing debris, decking, and so on.

Then, of course, weeds and saplings began to take over. Although the hostas are fighting the good fight.

Clearing all that out was as far as I got last year. Mainly because I wasn’t sure what to do with the space.

This year, I had the inspiration of starting a pollinator/cottage garden. Because the weeds and saplings were so aggressive, I opted for the cardboard mulch method:

The hostas seem to be making a comeback. That’s bee balm between the two patches of hostas. We have a nice mix of pollinator-friendly flowers: daisies, asters, poppies, delphinium, echinacea, and lavender. They seemed to have survived the downpours and the heat dome fairly well.

The trick with the cardboard mulch method (or so I’ve read) is that you need to continue to add compost during the growing season. This is what I did yesterday, and honestly, I think the plants are happier already.

And now, since it’s been a week, it isn’t raining, it isn’t too hot outside, I’m heading back into the garden to touch some grass (and other growing things).

About last night (and early this morning)

10:00 p.m. Annual city fireworks

Pets: freaking out
Me: resigned

10:20 p.m. Fireworks end with the first drops of light rain

Pets: squabbling over who sleeps where
Me: resigned, hoping everyone at the display makes it to their cars before the storm

10:45 p.m. Nonstop thunder, lightning

Pets: freaking out
Me: resigned

12:40 a.m. Tornado sirens, iPhone zombie claxon, daughter and friends spilling through the front door in time to make the dash to the basement

Everyone: freaking out

1:00 a.m. Line of storms moves through, daughter’s friends go home, still thunder, lightning

Pets: freaking out
Me: resigned

2:00 a.m. Everyone sleeps, power goes out, then comes back on again; no one notices

6:10 a.m. The slant of morning sun wakes me (as it always does)

Pets, daughter: sound asleep
Me: resigned

I’m using my hotspot to post this. Then, I plan to head outside and take stock of any damage—it’s mostly branches, and one of my birdbaths tipped over. But the sun is shining. We have power, and that’s no small thing. I’m grateful for both.

In actual writing-related updates, writing at my new and improved desk layout is working wonders. I’ve been both drafting and editing, and I think this was exactly what I needed to do. Also? Far less shoulder pain as well. Yeah. Proper ergonomics. Who knew?

A clean sweep

So this feels bigger than quitting my job. This week, I took the plunge and bought a brand-new desktop system.

Y’all, it took me forever to decide to do this. (Okay, more like five and a half months—but it felt like forever.) I’ve needed a new system for a while now. My all-in-one PC is fine for admin and hobbies, but not for Photoshop.

Even after researching new PCs and having my son help with some of the specs, I was still undecided. It took a while (again, forever), but I finally realized why.

What I actually needed was a Mac.

Cue additional thinking here.

While I use Vellum (Mac only) to create ebook and print files, I could get along fine with a PC setup. I could always rent a Mac in Cloud and do it that way. But it isn’t exactly a streamlined process. And since I’m going all in, I might as well go all in.

So this week, I bought a Mac Studio. Y’all, it’s a beast. 64 GB of RAM. I also have a 27-inch monitor. It didn’t like talking to my Logitech keyboard at first, but it all worked out after some time and (much) swearing.

Since the heat dome means that I can’t garden this weekend (except to water), I’ve been setting up my new system and also clearing out and reorganizing my desk.

Because here’s the other thing: part of it is psychological as well. My desk still looks like the setup I had for when I was working remotely. I couldn’t write there—at all. I do my drafting at the kitchen table, and really, that’s not an ergonomic solution.

So, here’s hoping! I’m going to finish up clearing out my desk today. I have a stack of Photoshop tutorials just waiting for me. I’m excited to get started.

Wish me luck.

Briefly

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!

Make way for admin days and ducklings

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

The wisdom of weekends

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.