I have a new eye twitch. No, not the old eye twitch that happened just below the bottom lashes. This one is in my left brow, so now it looks like I’m being overcome by strobe-like disbelief. Disbelief as a tic. Or maybe I’m flicker flirting. Microflirting. Ooo, that’s sexy. And time efficient.
Sexy is not important right now, but time efficient is. There aren’t enough hours in the day and on top of getting the final version of It is Risen ready for publication, I’m also churning out a secret project that I can’t post about here but that releases the same day as It is Risen (you’ll have to read to the end of the book to find the prize). And my sister is due with her second child the day after my publication date, or, you know, at any goddamn moment. When that happens, I have to drop everything for 48 hours to be on toddler niece duty. So let’s hope she waits until that due date.
In addition, I wanted to get an updated and expanded version of The Beginning out before a bunch of promotions on Monday, but I don’t think that’s going to happen, considering I haven’t dug into my editor’s notes at all. And then there are print editions that need to be made. And audiobooks. I still have to find a good narrator for Jessica Christ, then I have to navigate that production process.
Meanwhile, I have three days left to finish listening to an audiobook on loan from the library. Want to know which book? This is great. It’s Dearing Greatly by Brene Brown. So I’m hustling to finish it while hustling to finish my work, all while listening to how to feel like “enough.”
“But I’m not enough! Not yet! That’s loser talk!”
That’s my knee-jerk reaction, but obviously Brene is right. She’s always right. Why do I do this to myself?
The answer is somewhere in “I love doing this (though I wouldn’t mind doing it all at a slower pace),” “houses are expensive,” and “I still haven’t figured out where to get my self-worth if not from the things I create.”
Acupuncture yesterday was intended to help me slow down. God love my acupuncturist, but he seems intent on letting me sleep for as long as I can while those needles are in me. Related: I have a strange reaction to becoming a human pin cushion, and that’s passing the fuck out. Like, good night, ladies and gentlemen, it’s been nice knowing you but it’s time for me to transcend to a higher consciousness passing out. Toward the end of yesterday’s session, I started having nightmares where the needles somehow got jammed way far into me–the ones on my feet went clear through (ignore stigmata connections)–and I couldn’t get anyone to help me take them out. When I finally returned to my body, it was three hours later and he called me a “professional napper.”
I suspect it was the copious number of needles in my face yesterday, due to having mentioned allergy struggles, that has led to my new eye twitch. My body is so precariously balanced that any attempt to reset it, even with the best intentions, causes a rebellion. A twitchy, twitchy rebellion.
So I’ve decided that once It is Risen drops, I’m taking a bit of a break from writing. Nothing major. Maybe a couple weeks? Maybe a month? I’ll focus instead on marketing, putting editions to print, audiobook production and generally figuring out how the hell one catches up. Then I’ll jump back into it again. By traditional standards, I’ll still be publishing at a rapid pace, but by the breakneck, just-plain-stupid indie standards, I might as well be heading into the woods with no supplies, never to return.
We’ll see how it goes. Maybe I’ll get a new facial twitch.