There have been days where I've awakened, checked the headlines on my laptop, and had trouble getting out of bed, so discouraged by the mean-spirited, racist, anti-woman, anti-public education, anti-art and literature spew coming out of DC was I. And there have been days where I have been giddy-happy with the strength of the resistance.
The Woman's March was a life-changing, patriotic, heartening thumb in the eye of the new Trump Administration. I am proud to have been part of it.
And on the writing front:
Bean 3 (Working Title: The Time She Forgot) is pretty much ready for submission, but I'm waiting for one last Beta reader, and for the season to turn a tad more; it's an autumn-to-Christmas story, and I don't want it to come out before late summer. But I'll drop plenty of hints here, trust me. Watch this space! There are some epic special effects (according to my fave Beta reader, who has a book of his own just about to drop). Bean is in college in the third book--and there are some of the same characters--and some new ones that I had a blast and a half writing. In fact, drafting Bean 3 is what kept me from dissolving in grief after the election this fall. So far, it's my favorite of the three.
I've also been working on poetry submissions and my third book-length collection of poems. I wrote a short story set in 1943 with a young adult heroine that I think I could maybe spin into a YA book, although I don't know whether it would be straight historical fiction or time travel. It was composed as an entry for the New York City NPR station WNYC's Historical Fiction Challenge. I suspect the competition will be absolutely ferocious, but a girl can dream.
My poem "Receptionist, 1972" is in the current (Spring) Rattle, and I have poetry in both the new Peacock and Eclectica Anthologies. I am deeply, deeply grateful to have a righteous publisher of fiction in Evernight Teen, a good store of poetry to revise and fit into my new po-book, and the space to do those projects.
And yet I am more worried about the country I love, the place where ancestors of mine have lived since Dutch New Amsterdam, than I ever have been in my life. I've long dreamed of maybe retiring to Nova Scotia, but now that things actually seem dire enough that my friends and family have seriously entertained the thought of leaving...Lord, I don't want to--although I'll be glad to visit there this summer.
It's almost the end of February. Our daffodils are up, as are the scallions in our vegetable garden. But it's not supposed to be 66 degrees outside, with the air as thick as June, and there's not supposed to be a Severe Thunderstorm Watch. I guess I'm doing what we all are doing: watching--and waiting. And calling my senators and my congresswoman--like almost every day. Things HAVE gotten Severe, but so far I'm still clicking the computer keys.
Keep on keepin' on! And yeah--maybe buy my books. Thanks!