That inkling of possible joy.
Good morning from cool and sunny Vermont. The big news is that I’ve returned my first round edits. I have one more round to go. The small news is that now I’ve got to finish my “author page,” the one where I have to write different-sized blurbs about my book and tell the reader about myself. This page is tricky, because it’s online and long, so you have to finish all of it in one shot or else you have to start over. My eyes were zoinking with the blurb sizes–first 100 words, then 200 words, then 300 words. If I did it right, my work is waiting for me as a saved Word document. At least I can copy and paste.
With the cooler weather arriving, I’ve been thinking about Christmas. I know–it’s way early, but it’s that feeling that comes unbidden, that inkling of possible joy, before the to-do lists and anxiety about leaving anybody out. And I’m actually enjoying fall. Of course, I always enjoy the reds and yellows against a bright blue sky, but this is a different kind of fall for me, one of acceptance. I’m standing with the change of seasons instead of bracing myself against it. That’s good, isn’t it?
I’m closing early today so I can respond to comments and submit my author page. Check back next week for another hopefully longer segment of Finding Home.