Wanted: Distractions. 
These beautiful squash jumped into my car the other day when I was visiting Piercy’s farm. They were so beautiful, I couldn’t resist. It’s not like I run a home for wayward squash, but I am a sucker for fall colours, and they do perk up the porch.
They’ll eventually end up in my oven, which makes me feel a bit like the cannibalistic witch in Hansel and Gretel, but I’ll live with the guilt. In fact, we’ve already devoured the spaghetti squash and I’ll bake others until the sugars caramelize around the edges into brown bits of crunchy heaven.
Why, you might ask, am I going on about squash? I have a good reason – I need the distraction.
You see, I finished writing the first draft of Book 4 almost three weeks ago and I’m determined to leave it alone for another week: no peeking, no tweaking.
Yikes! A whole month.
I don’t think I’ve ever stayed away from these characters for that long. But the next part of the process is the first edit, and I know I’ll do a better job of it if I can distance myself from it, which is easier said than done. For months, I’ve spent every day with these characters and without them, there’s a gaping hole in my day — a hole I need to fill with distractions.
I’ve already cleaned the house, I’ve groomed the dog, and I’m up to date with the programs I had taped on the PVR. I’ve returned to the gym (sadly out of shape, I’m afraid) and caught up with friends over leisurely lunches and coffee dates.
I tackled the gardens. It’s a good thing it’s been a great fall — warmer and drier than usual. It’s allowed me to take care of the outdoor chores that should have been done months ago. That’s one of the downsides to writing – you have to give up some things to make time to write. Anyway, I’ve rather enjoyed getting dirt under my fingernails again and filling up the composters.
Now the rains have started and I’m back inside…studiously avoiding the characters who lurk dangerously close to this blog. One more week…
I finished writing the first draft of the fourth book in my Gift Legacy series last week. The process didn’t end with a thunder clap and popped cork, like I’d hoped. More like a wet splat with cold tea.
This was my second reading at the McKellar Library, and once again, Maxine and Joan did a tremendous job of hosting the event. Not only was my reading announced on the Township’s roadside billboard, but they also advertised it in the local paper and even announced it on 103.3, Moose FM.
The wedding came off with only the one (expected) hitch. The bride was stunning, her groom handsome. Vows were spoken, cake was eaten, toasts were made, but it was the first time I’d seen a drone taking photographs.
When we were kids, we’d see maybe one boat go by each day, and when it did, it was an event. It didn’t matter that the boats were almost always canoes or small aluminum fishing boats. We’d run to the shore to see who it was and shout out, “Having any luck?” Sometimes they’d hold up their catch and we’d wave. Because of the falls, the river’s a dead end, so the boaters would all have to come back our way. We’d wave again and call out “Good luck,” and they’d disappear around the bend. Today, over the course of a day, a dozen pontoon boats or PWCs might motor past.