All I want is a couple days off
Posted August 9, 2010on:
At the risk of incurring yet more of my twitta sistas’ wrath, YES, I WAS ON VACATION last week. Go ahead. Curse me. Shake your fist. You know you want to. I’ll wait while you get it out of your system.
Fantastic. For what it’s worth, this was the first full week off I’ve had since sometime in 2009. I can’t actually remember when it was because we typically don’t go anywhere. So, this past week was special because we spent it in a beach house on North Carolina’s Outer Banks. Eighteen of us split the rental fee. I only had to cook one night. Not a bad deal.
The house was wonderful. Three floors of fun. My husband’s whole family was there. A nephew attending college in Thailand came home with his Vietnamese bride. A niece announced she’s pregnant with baby number two. (Number One has his first birthday next month!) Another niece kept us entertained with her diabolical schemes to win Chris’ heart after The Bachelorette dumped him. We played games, ate, drank, barbecued on the beach (ourselves, not the food) and relaxed in a hot tub.
But that wasn’t the best part. I usually write in the evenings, after work, so being able to write in the mornings and afternoons was a special treat. I was inspired. I don’t know if it was the change in scenery, the change in habit, or the encouragement received from one of my Twiplets, Kelly, but I wished I could bottle it and save it for later. I read Jeff Somers’ latest release, finished Evan Mandery’s First Contact, critiqued a story for fellow tech writer and twitter pal Julio Vazquez, wrote guest blogs for Matt Delman and Jessie Mac and (squeal!) chatted for thirty minutes with an honest-to-God agent, Michelle Wolfson.
But even THIS wasn’t the best part.
No. The best part of this week was finally regaining the passion I used to have for SEND, my current WIP. For a while, something was missing. The writing was work, drudgery, no longer fun. I couldn’t figure out why or even when I lost the spark, but I suspect it had a lot to do with my mother’s diagnosis. The tick of the clock grew too loud. I had this subconscious race happening. I had to finish the story, get it out there before…
Not going there. Not now.
I let the manuscript sit for a few weeks. I didn’t write a word. Not until vacation. I returned to my outline (sorry, Pantsters… I just don’t feel the ‘wing it’ thing) and moved significant scenes, playing What If games with the new opportunities presented by resequencing. And you know what? I’m PUMPED. I wrote two new scenes, revised a bunch of others and can’t wait to get home tomorrow night, so I can tackle more.
Guess Huey Lewis had it right. All I really needed was a couple of days off.
Here are some pics from the week. Please feel free to tell my son his Mohawk looks ridiculous. He thinks it’s just me.