I haven’t had much energy to keep this blog going of late. I have been writing, but it has been primarily client work. I haven’t worked on fiction either. My juices must be at a low ebb, and I’ve been concentrating on just what needs to be done, rather than things I’d like to have done.
Erin has gone to Saskatchewan with Rosemarie and Vivian on a TD Book Week tour — 17 school and library visits in five days. She’s going to be tired when she gets back, but it’s the sort of thing that’s on any writers’ bucket list. It’s an author tour boot camp, something to be proud of doing, even if you wonder how you could possibly have done it (at the time, you don’t fret about whether you can do it, because I suspect you just don’t have the time to fret).
That leaves me with Nora, my father and Michael. I’m trying to make sure that I cook at least some times this week, and have Nora’s grandparents over. So far, that’s been going well.
It’s been a hard slog, and it still feels hard. Last month, I had my first birthday where my mother wasn’t present. This Sunday is Mother’s Day, and while my mother was decidedly not into celebrating Mother’s Day, it’s still a thing to think about, and remind you of who isn’t here anymore, and that drains you.
Still, I sometimes feel there are sparks happening at last. I may not have touched The Sun Runners for months, or even listened to the “soundtrack album”, but I’m listening now, and thinking about where next to take the story. And, strangely enough, The Curator of Forgotten Things has started to earth up ideas. I’m only 4,000 words into this story but, critically, the last 1,000 came in the past week.
There are still grey skies as I write this, but we’ve had some sunny days at last, and the promise of more to come. Someday soon, summer may finally arrive.