I spent some time working on my website, and I'm trying to catch up with my email. I feedbacked a friend's 11k short story, and I'm going through my TBR pile at a rate of knots. That's four books and counting, and a fair few of those are books for Iron Cross research. I think I'm just cleaning up the little tasks that fell by the wayside during the mad writing rush of the last few months.
Next week will be tough as I'm getting the magazine off to print, so long and early hours, working through weekends, the usual song and dance, and I'm not sure how much writing will happen in that time (I'll try, but I've been very low on productivity - or not seriously writing at all - for four weeks). That's okay, there's a time when you have to answer emails, do your taxes, read and watch some TV shows that are inspiring, and do some stuff with the person you live with. It's ok, it's like inhaling and exhaling. Writing has a rhythm, one part is PRODUCE PRODUCE PRODUCE, the other is refill, calm down, think, ponder, research.
I'm doing a little bit of translating and might end up translating my own old stories, sex them up and sell them. But that's a side project.
If you are waiting for an email response, it's quite likely you'll get it in the next few days. Otherwise, life is good. This morning, Mr Fox came to visit - he was a cub when we bought the house, but he's fully grown now and not as scraggly as other urban foxes I've seen. Seeing him weave through the bushes, all coated in frost, was my high point of the morning. What a wonderful thing is life.