I forgot that I do not like to not have things to do. Not that I don't have things I can do, but aside from feeding and clothing my child, there is nothing I HAVE to do. My book is in my editor's hands, and I have nothing assigned to me as of yet. Not that I get assignments, but since so much of life has been spent in schools, I tend to look at it as being full of assignments. Sometimes it's the only way for me to get things done. The funny thing I am noticing, not for the first time, is that I SUCK at relaxing. Like, I could totally be vegging out until after the new year, when I can buckle down and give myself real assignments. Instead, I'm fretting about not having anything to do and what people are going to think about my new book. I hate this time in a book's life: a few galleys are out there (my publisher is waiting to send out more until after the holidays, so they don't get lost in the hustle and bustle. Which makes sense.), but they won't be in the hands of teen readers who almost always say positive things, until June, or reviewers, who may or may not influence the shelf life of a book. It's a scary, self-doubting time for me. For all authors? With every book I go through periods of elation and pride, as well as periods of self-doubt and hatred. The book sucks. My second one did better than I thought for a sophomore slump, so the bad book must be my third, right? These are things I think. Especially when I have nothing concrete to do to fill my brain's time. But, most importantly, what do you think of these boots?
Kind of weird, kind of cute, right? But they're $250. I will not spend that on shoes. Now that I have the whole feeding and clothing of a daughter to think about. I do like them, though. Does Cole Haan stuff ever go on sale?
Oy. I better get on a new project quickly. It's only 8:23 AM, and I'm already chewing gum. Not a good sign.