The late night chanting of the insects is loud enough to be heard from inside; out on the back deck it’s almost deafening. We’re into summer now, trying to keep enough water on the garden to keep the vegetables healthy until the next rain and getting done what we can before the heat of the day settles in.
The third part of “Drowsy Maggie” is being difficult. Part of it is I’m so accustomed to playing it as a two-part song that the transition into and out of part three is clumsy at best. Playing it at speed is going to take a while, I think.
I’m feeling like I’d like to make another run at a book for the middle grades, maybe a series if I can get some kind of rhythm going. I’ve been listening to Joseph Campbell’s The Hero with a Thousand Faces, and I think that’s what is nudging me back into writing something book-length. Interesting where the push comes from sometimes; I’ll see where it takes me.
One of the things I’m becoming more comfortable with about myself is the futility of making plans and setting schedules. When it’s time for a new book, it will feel right. Trying to make myself write a new book results in clumsy trash which I end up throwing away before I’m a thousand words into it. The same thing is true with eating habits, exercise regimens, and so on. Guess it’s a good thing I’m retired now and can treat the ebb and flow with the respect it needs.