I am trying to make my peace with the likely fact that instead of drafting a new novel this summer, my mind will be mostly taken up by thinking about how to do online education better, how to keep the kids engaged and happy and healthy, how to support my community through a pandemic.
I’d planned to start work on it on July 1, and it’s the 18th now, and I haven’t been able to get myself to even open the file.
The novel can wait another year if it must. It’s certainly not the biggest loss, in a season of so much grief, but I have to say, it’s not nothing either.
Well, we’ll see. Maybe I’ll have a breakthrough; it’s not quite too late yet. Almost, though.