Category: Check-in

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.

All in all, not a bad weekend. (And would you look at the Mississippi. We got a lot of rain last week.)

Rainy days and Sundays (never get me down)

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.

Tiny burst of joy

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.

Four months in: reality check

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?

No regrets.

I’m back!

Hello everyone! I. Have. Returned.

But wait! Where was I?

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.

Happy Spring, Happy Nowruz

I stepped outside this morning, dogs tugging on their leashes. A light rain had washed everything overnight. And there, on the back deck, it smelled like spring—if only for a moment.

Then, the dogs pulled me down the steps and into the mud.

But I feel like spring is here, even if it has been chilly, even if we do end up with more snow. I always feel like I’m waiting for the March equinox, which also happens to be the day of the Persian New Year.

To me, it feels like the new year. Being this far north, I sometimes think we should forget about January and February and hibernate until the equinox. Yes, we’ll probably get more snow, but it isn’t going to last. And on the other side is that wonderful halo of green that the trees will soon wear.

That gives me energy; that gives me hope.

Happy Spring and Happy Nowruz!

Of false springs and rabbit holes

We had a lovely week of false spring, topping out at 72 degrees or so. Now, of course, it’s 18 degrees, but at least it’s sunny today. But while it was warm, I took long walks and went out and about in that extra hour of sunshine. Lots of other people were out as well, and we all seemed very happy, tipping our faces toward the sun and letting out a long breath.

Spring in Minnesota is like that.

I also went down several research rabbit holes this week and decided to pick up with language learning again. Low-key, self-paced language learning, which I’m finding I enjoy a lot more than the classroom setting (whether in real life or online).

I decided on Italian (for reasons), and I’m using Duolingo, supplemented by a grammar book and the podcast Coffee Break Italian. It helps that I’ve already studied German, Russian, and a little French. So my brain understands things like: oh, irregular verb, or oh, that’s the plural, without much conscious thought.

Yes, this makes learning a new language easier. It’s also nice to use this part of my brain again. It’s like it’s also waking up along with spring.

A study in contrasts

This week, Tuesday morning:

This week, Wednesday morning:

There’s still snow on the ground, but the roads are clear and dry enough for walking. And most importantly? No patches of ice. And while there’s a wintery mix in our future for Saturday, this week looks amazing for walking. I’m planning on doing a lot.

Also? Daylight Saving Time. I used to hate losing that extra hour of sleep, but now I’m so grateful to have more sunshine later in the day that I don’t mind so much.

In writing, I worked on those debriefing transcripts I mentioned last week. It’s almost like I’m a fly on the wall, listening in. (I mean, assuming flies care about eavesdropping and not simply their next meal.) There are plot points I need to address. But I also want these conversations to unfold naturally, depending on who’s doing the debriefing.

In other news, I have embarked on spring cleaning. Wish me luck.