I hosted my writers’ club yesterday for the last time this year, and it made me sad. We couldn’t meet at all during Shut Down, and when libraries finally opened up again in March, we still weren’t allowed in our usual spot–a meeting room in the library. It was just too horrible not seeing each other, so we started getting together at my place. (HH takes off for the day. He loves us as people, but isn’t into listening to us read chapters:)
At the library, we met from 12:30 to 2:30 to talk writing and listen to three readers who’d signed up to share with us that day. Then we’d head to The Tower Grill and Bar to eat and yak. The yakking, to me, was as important as the meeting. My writer friends always recharge my battery and motivate me. So besides having everyone come to our house, I cooked for them. (Let’s face it. I love cooking for people I care about).
But Covid numbers are rising again, and it looks like they’re only going to get worse, so I reluctantly had to tell everyone that I couldn’t host our Christmas get-together, and we all agreed to pass on it this year. I can’t tell you how much I always look forward to our Christmas carry-in. There’s no business, no reading, just fun and lots of food. When the last person left our house yesterday, I was in a bit of a funk. But ultimately, I’d rather be safe than sorry.
I’ve been writing short stories with sappy, happy endings lately, but they’ve been kind of an antidote for many of the things I’ve been missing. We’ve been extra careful because I help with my cousin once in a while, and she’s so frail, she’d be in trouble if she caught Covid. So no restaurants for us except for occasional carry-out. No get-togethers with groups of friends. One of the nice things about writing, though, is that it can be therapeutic. I can’t change the voice and tone of the books I’m working on. They have a certain style, and I don’t want to mess with that. When a reader (including me) follows a series, it’s because certain things appeal to him or her. That’s what he wants and expects in the next book, too. But short stories? They can be tinkered with:)
Anyway, I’ve made it to the middle of Jazzi 7, and I’m reaching the pages that are usually the hardest for me to write. So it’s back to business. It’s time to knuckle down and pump out pages. If you’re a NaNo participant, you’re probably at that place now, and I hope the pages are filling for you. But even if you’re not pushing to reach 50,000 words, happy writing anyway! And stay healthy and happy.