So I’ve been good. I’ve actually genuinely been good. I’ve lived within my lifting limit (which are lifted tomorrow), I’ve rested and I’ve really done very little. I’ve written – my novel went off to a beta reader, came back, and is apparently not terrible. So after a raft of edits it’s gone off to some other folks who asked to be beta readers. I’m waiting to hear what they think of it, but unlike paid beta readers, there’s no time limit on that which is hard.
If they don’t suggest anything huge then I’m actually going to shop it to some agents and see what they think. Which is a terrifying thing, but I have to remind myself that one of my day jobs involves writing. I’ve written scripts every week for years. Not fiction, no, but it’s still writing. It’s still story telling. So maybe I can write adequately. I find it very hard to tell. I’ve started work on something else which went a much weirder place than I was expecting. I also made a couple more earrings. Thanks to a viewer of TE, who sent a bunch of dead capacitors. I need to be careful with two of them because they’re dried out electrolytics – at least, I’m hoping they’ve dried out. But if they show any signs of leakage then they’ll no longer be earrings, they’ll be ewaste.
We headed up to Port Townsend for a few days, which was delightful. Walks on the beach, meandering through the town, spending some time soaking in a spa, and we took in a film at the Starlight Room. Lots of reading, a bit of writing. Basically an ideal break.
All in all, having a month off post surgery has been really good for me except that it’s really driven home that I need to move to a workplace where I feel happier about [stuff]. Because today I’ve found myself feeling really, really unmotivated. Entirely because I keep thinking about tomorrow.
