Entering the Deadline Cave

Hi! Happy March!

I am SO HAPPY that February is over. I mean, it was not all bad: I had a cramazing time on Breathless Reads. I got to celebrate the UK release of BORN WICKED and its one-year anniversary in the US (and my two-year bookdealiversary!). And this week The Playwright got exciting news regarding two upcoming productions and one possible productions, which makes me super-proud (and which I will announce as soon as I’m allowed!).

But February was also WAY stressful. I was traveling for 9 days out of 28. Our house got broken into. (We were not at home, Monkey was fine, my laptop was fine, but the thieves stole The Playwright’s laptop and iPad. And a little bit of my sense of security.) My father-in-law is in the hospital for the second time this month. I started teaching a new class and tried to figure out how to better wrangle my first class (full of amazing, creative, sweet, super-high-energy 9-11 year olds). And February is not the kindest month for anyone with nontypical brain chemistry. It’s so…gray. I basically just want to curl up with THE WEST WING (oh Josh Lyman, how I love you) and some extra-sharp cheddar and then take a Monkey nap.

I gave in to that urge more than I should have last month. Cahill Book 3 is due in two weeks and I still have quite a bit to do, which means it’s official deadline-cave time!

What does that mean? Late nights. Lots of Earl Grey. The Playwright being in sole charge of laundry and cooking (er, that’s not so atypical actually, bless him). Little to no blogging. Lots of Twitter. Falling behind on email. Canceling all but the most important social plans (or trying not to make any, as I’d too likely end up canceling). Not reading anything too engrossing, lest my brain get caught up in a world not of my own creation. Listening to lots of Snow Patrol and Mumford & Sons and Florence + the Machine and Amanda Palmer and the Lumineers (all on my book 3 soundtrack). Plotting out loud with The Playwright and my BFF. Night owl emails with finished chapters to my CP. Flailmails to writing friends when I worry I don’t know what I’m doing. Treating myself to a massage for the inevitable shoulder/back pain. Trying to remember to stretch. Too much Diet Coke. Being grateful, through it all, that this is what I get to do for a living.

See you on the other side!

4 Responses

  1. Lindsay

    Ohh, Jess, that is so awful! I'm glad you & Playwright & Monkey are okay. I hope your father-in-law is recovering, as well.

    Best of luck with the Book 3 draft! I will be rooting for you. 😀

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