Within the past week, I’ve gotten two big projects out the door: a book I co-wrote on Office 2010 (my coauthor covered Excel and Access; I wrote about everything else) and revisions to Hellforged. The Office 2010 book is now at the printer; Hellforged will move on to a copyeditor.
It’s a little disorienting to emerge from a big push and encounter an almost-clear desk. I’ve still got things to do, of course, but I’m not focused on a looming—or missed—deadline. It feels weird for that pressure, which has been constant for weeks, to be suddenly gone.
Somehow, summer arrived. I could’ve sworn it was spring the last time I looked out my window. But now it’s 98 degrees outside and roses and daylilies have replaced the lilacs and daffodils in my neighborhood.
I’ve written some parts of the next book in Vicky’s series, which picks up a couple of weeks after the events of Hellforged, and I want to jump into working on the sequel while those events are still fresh in my mind. I’ve got to write a proposal for another nonfiction book. I want to redo my Web site. There are other work-related tasks waiting for me, as well. But mostly I want to enjoy the summer while it’s here (although I might not venture out of the air conditioning too much until the temperature drops back to the 80s). Sitting on the front porch with my husband in the evenings, sipping a G&T or a glass of wine. Taking some weekend trips. Listening to outdoor concerts. Taking walks by the lake, sitting in an outdoor cafe, going to a park. I don’t want my next glance out the window to show me that the leaves are already changing. Yes, I’ll move forward and accomplish things in my work, but I’m overdue for a little carpe diem time.