Right now, it is two pm on a Monday. Memorial Day. Not a holiday that gets a “happy” in front of it, because it honors those who gave their lives in service to their country, and yet it is also the start, for many, of the summer season. The start of beach vacations and barbecues, open pools and long afternoons that stretch into star-spangled nights. Naps in hammocks, iced tea in mason jars, watermelon cubes, served in their former shell, carved in the shape of alligator teeth.
Maybe some of that is just me. My thoughts, my memories, filtered through the screen-door-like mesh of my daily planner page grid. I have iced tea at hand, in a wine goblet instead of a mason jar, and my stomach is full of the delicious lunch my real life romance hero, a former professional cook, made for our at-home lunch date. The box fan whirrs next to me, and I am writing this blog post because it is the thing next on my to-do list, an easy (hah) thing I can tick off before I bury my nose, once again, hopefully for the last time, in the final-final-final galley proof of Chasing Prince Charming, double check with Melva that she and I are on the same page (pun intended,) and then give our editor a combined thumbs up.
After that, it’s out of our hands. That’s both scary and exciting. It also means that now is my time to double down and power through the backlogged work on Drama King, so we can be back on track and get into the home stretch on our second book written together. Then it’s on to book three, and the couple of novella ideas we’ve tossed back and forth; a new batch of beach balls, if you will. There’s also our website to wrangle into place, which is a learning curve unto itself, but I can take that curve.
It’s also time to kick myself it the derriere when it comes to historical romance, because A) I still crazy stupid love them, and B) if I am already looking four or so books down the line, that means I need to get this draft done and dusted, before I can spread some stuff out and see what lands where. Planning, yes, what I love, and then the execution of those plans. That sometimes does not involve pretty paper and fancy pens, more the hundred percent humidity and bored kids at home part of summer, but that comes with the territory, so it seems.
Where is this going? Darned if I know. What I do know is that this post is done, I am satisfied with it, and now it’s time to make sure that I feel the same way about the next items on the list. It doesn’t happen all at one time. It’s one foot in front of the other, one keystroke at a time, some freaky-deaky dreams about summer camp and moving out of dorms (or maybe that’s just me, again) and then, as they say, all at once, summer turns into fall. fall is my favorite, so that does seem to be the right direction.