My life has turned into a marathon of “hurry up and wait.”
It’s 8:23 in the morning. I’ve been up since 5:00. My tasks today were relatively simple. Read over Chapter Six of The Calling (now that I’m back on that project.) And mow the lawn before or after piano.
This past month my life fell into a routine. 5 AM to 12 belonged to simple morning prep and editing/formatting/proofing “Across the Distance.” That project, literally overnight, went out of my hands and into the far more capable ones of Kyle Shepherd, who reformatted the entire layout and is working on the cover.
The day I woke up and realized for the first time this year, I didn’t have a writing project was both exciting and – weird.
But wonderful. Because in that routine, early afternoons were dedicated to setting up my own publishing imprint. It was filling out forms and tracking down a notary. It was trying to hit the courthouse when it was open on days when I had piano students coming. It was finding out I needed to fill out another form before I could complete this one and searching for the beginning of the line. It was discovering something called “Score” which set me up with a local volunteer to help answer my questions and steer me in the right direction. Honestly, when I filled out the application for Score, I didn’t expect to find anyone within an hour of my town, but it turns out there are two people here.
It was looking for a bank account that wasn’t going to cost my first born child to open an business account and fine me if I couldn’t keep a few thousand dollars in there at all times. It was filling out tax forms and researching online.
And parts of it were really fun.
I’ve got my own key to my own Post Office box.
I signed up for my first credit card so I can build up a credit score (because you know, paying with cash and refusing to buy anything you don’t have money for, isn’t good enough to prove you’re responsible with money.)
I redesigned my “Swing” cover and smiled as I added my own logo.
I went grocery shopping in heels and a black dress because I had to combine dropping off paperwork with errands while I was “in town.”
I received my copyright paper for Swing in the mail, reliving the moment I received the same for The Secret of Sentarra. That moment defined being an author for me, even more strongly than when a truck dropped 250 copies of my first book at my house for my first book signings.
But now I’m back in limbo. I’m waiting for my account card to come through, so I can buy ISBN numbers before they go off sale. I’m waiting for ISBN numbers before I can upload Swing’s files to the new publisher. I’m waiting to receive Across the Distance before  I finalize book signing and release dates – which also depends on getting the ISBN numbers.
They call it monkey-mind and I’ve got it today. I got up at 5:00, but looking at the chapter (already growing old from too many readings) reminds me that I’m sleepy. My body hurts from sitting down. My lungs hurt from breathing through the changing seasons. I need to mow the jungle lawn, which I’ve put off because of the breathing issues.
I sit down to edit and my brain chants, “Mow. Mow.”
I go to mow and my brain cries, “Publish! Publish!”
I look at my checklist to publish and my heart sighs, “Wait. You can’t do anything until you’re completely set up.”
So I decide to edit “The Calling.”
And the cycle starts all over.
I know. I know. I need to pick something. And do it.
Isn’t that how you do anything in life?

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