My Brain on Books

Last winter, way back before I began rewrites and revisions for my YA fantasy novel, I cleared out my garden beds. They were clean and organized with all of the little seedlings in tidy rows, and they had lots of growing space.

dirt

This is my brain.

Then, I began a rewrite. My brain was a mess of intersecting plot threads and character arcs. My garden grew unruly too, and with three-digit temps and a self-imposed deadline, I didn’t have a whole lot of time for my poor garden. Or anything else.

One day, after I finished my edits and finally took a look outside, I found this . . .

August garden

This is my brain on books.

That looks about right. Yup. Right down to the collapsed bamboo stakes and the two-month-dead tomato plants. And that grass? Sheesh. That’s going to be fun to clear out.

People keep asking what I’m working on now or next. I have an idea (more on that another day), but . . . I need a break. My garden needs me. My kids need me. My brain needs defragging.

I’m still moving forward with the YA fantasy, but I’m in a one-thing-at-a-time stage with it now. Manageable. And working on the business end of writing. No new stories until the mess gets cleared out and I’ve got a little room to breathe again.

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