Katherine Mankiller

Is it wrong?

Is it wrong to be slightly envious of my fiction for being better travelled than me?

I've never been sad about a story going to New Jersey instead of me, but I'm about to send a story to England. I've been to England, but it was in the late 1970s and I was a preteen. My main memories are that it was August and it was so overcast that it looked like pretty much the same amount of light the entire three days I was there, and I also have a copy of The Magician's Nephew that I purchased from a newstand despite being utterly clueless about English money.

I'd kind of like to stuff myself into an envelope and mail myself to England right now.

Kitties in the sun.

Unpacking hell

I have so many boxes. The cats have an exciting box playground. I feel like I'm making no progress at all, but I'm gradually clearing a path.

Of course, what I'm making no progress on is writing. Sigh! I have plans, but there is almost no butt in seat time. I'm so tired from work and unpacking that there isn't a lot of energy left over.

I think this is something a lot of (most? all?) writers deal with: you have to fit writing into a life that includes a day job, trying to maintain a relationship/family, etc. Something has to give, and I think women have the worst of it. But that's a rant for another day.