pond in spring


I have a book that I’ve been writing for a thousand years. (Are you really a thousand years old, you ask? Is that unnecessary hyperbole?) Oh, hush. I am. I must be, because I am quite sure that this book has taken me that long.


A thousand years, yesterday. That makes me a thousand and a day, today.


I learned just recently, in this Advent season, that my book will be another full year in the making. I had hoped we’d suddenly pick up steam at the end, but no. A slow birth is slow all the way through.


I have all sorts of writer friends. Some of them have turned out two books—two books, all the way, concept to publication—in this same amount of time. If you play cribbage, that’s called “skunking” your opponent. It’s good that we’re not a cribbage playing bunch. This game we’re in is something different.



I’m at the Mudroom today. You can read the rest right here. Enjoy!