I haven’t had two full days off for I don’t know how long. Weekends, holidays, and even vacation time have been filled with writing and deadlines.
Because of that, my best friend convinced me that we should celebrate the submission of the final book in the Allie Beckstrom series by *gasp* taking a whole 2.5 days off *over a weekend*(!) at the beach.
So we did. Last weekend, my best friend and I packed our bags, intending to do nothing but stare at the ocean, eat good seafood, and drink coffee. There would also be knitting, maybe a movie, and shopping. Really low-key restful stuff.
It was wonderful, but life being what it is, I came down with a cold, and felt pretty crummy while trying to relax and enjoy.
I didn’t write a single word for 2.5 days. Not one.
It was strange.
Today, back at my desk with a pile of new work waiting for me (Tin Swift proofs) and new novels that have yet to step from dream to page, I wondered how long it would take for that niggling urge to create to catch me up again.
I didn’t have to wait long.
Once upon a time, there was a girl who stood in the hard March wind and let it scrub all the old words out of her. The words tumbled and whirled up and up, carried away by the rolling clouds, leaving her empty, warm, and still. She held her breath, tipped her face up…
…and the sky opened.
New words rained down around her, filling her up again, and soaking her through with wonder…..