You’re here! Great timing. We’re about to get to the latest edition of:
☠️ “How’s the book going?”*
Deadlines, like movie theater screens, are most comfortably viewed from a distance. So my first few days of book leave were pretty relaxed: I was working, but also taking breaks to water the many plants in the house (conservative estimate: 60) and kill fruit flies with my electric death racket (most in one session: 8).
Then, about a week in, panic arrived. Can’t say exactly why, but I suspect it had to do with my unnamed housemate** sitting me down and actually counting the number of days on a calendar before my next mini-deadline, which is to finish a chunk of the draft by mid-September. The number of days was …. not many.
Mild panic has so far proved a great motivator for short sprints of work. Unfortunately the book is a marathon, so it remains to be determined whether panic fuel can sustain 26.2 miles of writing or if it’ll run out and have to be replaced with some other motivation (a reward at the end? the need to prove someone wrong? pure ego?).
* Why is it both “how’s the book going?” and “how’s the book coming?” (See “up for” and “down for,” pg. 96.)
** source requested the following attribution: name starts with “ni” and ends with “har”
Small wins from the past two weeks:
cold-calling/cold-emailing people I want to talk to for the book and immediately getting a response. there is no greater thrill
occasionally waking up without setting an alarm. there is no greater luxury
Was distracted by:
reading books to takes notes on their structure (just started Say Nothing, paging through The Cult of We) (it’s research, I swear)
✅ Review it with Huet: the teapot
90% of my daily hydration is tea, so I have spent a long time searching for the right tea vessel. Main requirement: must be big.
First I tried those huge bowl-shaped mugs. Big! But not big enough. Always needing to refill.
Then I tried drinking tea out of one-liter mason jars. Bigger! But very annoying to carry a hot mason jar. No handle.
Then……...I found this teapot.
It’s 1.2 liters (more if you’re willing to live on the edge). It’s got a strainer for loose-leaf tea. It’s embarrassingly cheap. It keeps tea warm — not forever but for a while.
Also — a clean and serene pour. Finally I can make use of the smaller mugs in the house. Refilling is now a joy. I cannot control my fate but at least I can control my teapot.
☎️ Let me know if you
have pacing tips on how to run a marathon, or have strong feelings on whether books come or go
🚪 Goodbye, thank you for reading, and here’s for the road:
A recent snippet of Waffle (front) and Matcha (back), two snowball Samoyed sisters under the care (Matcha permanently, Waffle temporarily) of my friend Michelle. When you walk with two of these in the park, people ignore you and talk directly to the dogs.
