Every single year I swear I’m not going to do this to myself again…and yet…here I am. 3.5 months left to the year and I’ve got 4 decently-sized projects due before the end of the year (2 novellas, 2 anthologies). I’m also teaching a couple more classes and I’m attending Can*Con virtually. I suppose the difference is the fact that I took two months off in the middle of summer to rest. And by “rest” I mean “not writing.” I think it helped.
In the last 5-6 weeks or so, I’ve attended Gen Con in person, attended Chicon virtually, Queen Elizabeth II died (feelings are complicated on this one) and I got my omicron booster/flu shot. I’m settling in for a whole lot of butt-in-the-chair-fingers-on-the-keyboard. I have no scheduled or even planned “travel” until next year April. There is a bit of relief in that.
Of course, part of me is itching to get my signature on a new contract. As of now, I don’t know exactly what I’m doing next year. I mean, there’s Secret Project A, Secret Project B, and Secret Project C in the works. All of which would take a whole lot of time. I still have two more Shadowrun novels to write to finish out my unofficial trilogy and the YA series. Not to mention, I’m also itching to work on my own stuff—a languishing SF novella and a “men’s soap opera” series I’ve been thinking about for years now...
And yet…there is security and comfort in having signed contracts.
Thus, it feels like time is running away with me. I know it’s not. I know if I keep working at a steady pace, everything will come together and I should even have a couple weeks of “nothing” at the end of the year. But, we all know that deadlines and projects slip and slid until they bunch up against each other in the same two week period.
Until then, slow and steady wins the day.
Here's a shelfie of densely packed dark academia fancy.