Not a Master Task Juggler

Contrary to rumors started by my new reading glasses stand, I am still here.

I started the new job this week on Wednesday, which turned out to be a massively positive move. I was stressed about the change (because even good change is stressful and requires rejiggering of schedules and tasks, which don’t stop just because a new task takes up 8 hours of the day), but it turned out to be excellent. The drive in on the one day a week I need to be in the office isn’t too bad and ends with a jaunt along the Mississippi River that’s quite pretty. The company and people are wonderful, and it seems like I’ll fit well there: it’s all lucky and cool. And, huge relief, this sort of work isn’t much different from what I’ve been doing most of my career, so I can be useful fast (and not feel lost).

I also got my first-pass comments from the publisher last week, so I have a 10 item to-do list of things I need to update/add/correct/change. All of it will make the book better, and I anticipated having additional stuff to do once the manuscript got into editing, but the timing (while starting a new job) is a little tricksy. Sadly my cello was ignored the entire week.

As were the pets (according to them). fAngus is particularly annoyed: Minerva keeps stealing his spot on the bed.

So my sabbatical officially comes to a close with a bit of a whimper on my part, because I got another short story rejection the night after I started my job. Sigh. Non-fiction was an epic win, far beyond what I thought I’d accomplish in my year. Fiction, not so much, and there’s a huge part of me that’s sad and disappointed in myself for failing those goals. But I’m not done.

Tomorrow I’ll look for more markets for the rejected story, because it’s fucking GOOD. Even I think so (and I almost never think my own writing is good, which is not a backhanded request for compliments. I just usually feel like there are improvements to be made). So I just need to find the right market.

And once I’m settled into this new schedule with the cancer book out of my hands, I’ll finish the Banshee novel (which is nearly more annoyed than fAngus at my lack of attention. I swear I can hear “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” on the regular from that book). No, I’m not crazy. I’m just a sub-par juggler of all the things. I have book two outlined and ready to go…I just need to carve out time, which is a slightly more complicated prospect these days, and set a schedule.

But first, cancer edits for my publisher. There’s a phrase I never imagined saying in this blog. And that deserves champagne.