Technically, this doesn’t count as a day off, because I’ve already done an interview with a client for a book . . . but I’m taking the rest of the day to do some fun writing (and proof Wren’s cover letter). I’m in one of those period frustrating phases where I have no money, not because I have no work, but because all of my invoices from February are still outstanding.
It’s easy to get all annoyed about these things, but the truth is it’s just part of being a freelancer. There are lots of things you can (and should) do to make these sorts of less common, but, well, they happen. You’ve got to be philosophical about it, and, sometimes, just take a deep breath and a day for yourself.
Of course, as soon as I get paid I’m heading home to Las Vegas to pack up my parents’ and my gram’s house . . . so, you know, busy couple weeks.
I’ve had a really nice week, overall, and it’s involved a host of incidental run-ins with writers. Last night, I ran into novelist Paul Mosier, and we talked shop for awhile (while we both should’ve been working, of course) about his first book, Train I Ride, which is being released next year by HarperCollins! It’s got a real release date, now, so it’s really real, and he’s already hard at work on his second book.
The night before that, I had a really nice conversation with author Molly Gloss, who’s written six books and is on the rundown towards retired from her successful writing career, to go hang out with her horses. She was nice enough to hang out to talk with a few of us for a long time, and share her own experiences.
I think it’s important to deal with life’s little (and big) frustrations with a sense of how small they usually are in the long run. Life is an event in motion, sure–the details can be a bit overwhelming–but most days are just about doing what needs doing, then doing the same thing tomorrow. Do that for thirty thousand days or so, and you’ve probably lived a good and productive life.
It’s easier said than done, sure, but it’s still exactly complicated.
Do a little more, do a little better, and you’ll stay on the right trajectory.
I’m turning 29 this month, and I’m coming to grips with 2016 being the last full year I’ll spend under 30.
I could be doing better. I could have made different choices which would have led to a great deal more security in my life, but somehow I don’t really regret anything about where I am or how I got here.