I'm supposed to be writing a blurb.
But I'm avoiding it by writing a blog.
Earlier today I thought I might write the blurb but I decided to take a nap.
Because I'd rather write another book than a blurb.
But I will write it. I will.
Just not right now.
Probably at the last minute because it's what I prefer. I used to feel shame for my procrastination but then I read Adam Grant's The Originals (Read this book. It's amazing). I do my best work when I've allowed my brain to process all the ideas in the background as I fill my days with menial chores.
And then I just do the thing.
But seriously, blurb writing is the worst.
So here I am, digging through the scraps of my tired brain to find anything worth blogging about so I don't feel like this latest tactic isn't wasted.
What a wild spring/summer, huh?
Writing has always been a strange road for me anyway, but writing during a pandemic is definitely a new one.
I was incredibly blessed to be able to convert my job to online classes so I could stay home with Bear. Of course the dog has been celebrating nonstop since March. All she's ever wanted finally came true when we stopped leaving the house indefinitely.
And I wrote.
I wrote so many words. I wrote a story I'm incredibly proud of. I can't wait to share it with you.
But I'm also planning the next one. And the one after that.
I have a feeling the 20s are going to be Roaring in many ways.
But first I should really write this blurb.
Right after I make my bed and dust the ceiling fan.
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