Notes from Maine - 2023/04/02
I wonder if today will be the day. I send out these emails with MailChimp. I’ve heard their pricing is going to increase and I’m pretty sure it was supposed to happen in March. Every Sunday, I go to the site and hit the button, wondering if I’m going to be prompted for payment details. We’ll see. I’m not making much from my books right now. Over the past couple of years, my output has slowed dramatically. My writing hasn’t slowed—just my output. My computer contains a stack of “finished” books that I continue to fiddle with. Each of them has an issue waiting to be resolved. It’s a different approach for me. In the past, I felt a panic to get each book out the moment that it was passable. Now, I want to see what happens if I give myself enough time to form a new perspective. It’s an experiment. I like experiments.
Yesterday was beautiful. The weather was terrible, and I sat next to a window all day, working on a project and glancing out at the rain. It’s such a treat to be fully engrossed in a creative process. Hours evaporated as the rain fell. Every now and then a dog pushed their nose under my elbow, reminding me that we had other chores to attend to.
The horses were indoors all day. This time of year, with all the rain coming down, they would have been up to their bellies in mud. Still, it’s sad to see them inside all day like that. Their big, mournful eyes tugged at my heart. Fortunately, I’m gifted with the ability to remember what happens when I give in and let them out. As soon as they get a little rain on them, they come and stand right next to the barn door, stomping up a big muddy pit. They long for the idea of going outside in the rain. They’re not big fans of the reality of it.
The farrier came last week. Maybelle is perfect—lifting each foot gracefully and holding it up patiently while it’s trimmed and shaped. Earl can be a bit of a monster. For the past month, we’ve worked every day, trying to improve Earl’s manners. It’s going fine, honestly, but there was something off when the farrier was here. One of Earl’s feet was bothering him, so he kept trying to shift his weight. It went okay, just not great. We will keep training, and maybe next time will be great. Earl’s birthday is in a few weeks and I have no idea what to get him. I’m fresh out of birthday ideas for the giant horse who has it all. Perhaps we will take a break from foot work that day.
In a few minutes, I’ll go back to my chair by the window and resume working on my current book. There’s a stiff price to pay for allowing myself to become so involved with a project. All last night, I tossed and turned. My dreams were haunted with things I have to do and ideas that I didn’t want to forget. By the time I woke, everything was lost in a fog, so all that turmoil came to naught. I should probably stop work a few hours before bed so I can spin down after a long day. That’s difficult though. The road ahead is so long that I don’t want to waste a single moment.
A few times, I’ve heard the expression, “Painters want to paint. Writers want to have written.” I’ve tried tracking down a source for that wisdom, but with no success so far. I really don’t feel that way. Even when the words are coming slowly and I have to keep backtracking, I like the process of seeing a story unfold at the bottom of the screen, pushing the paragraphs up as they go. Although the quote doesn’t really resonate with my process, I think I understand it. The journey is fun, but there’s nothing better than realizing you’re finally at the end of a book. It took months (sometimes longer), but there’s a trail of words that got you from the humble opening all the way to the big conclusion.
I better get back to it. I’ll never finish if I don’t.
