I kept trying to make a blog post these last two weeks, but I was juggling fifteen hundred to two thousand words a day on Bean 3, which is now called The Time She Forgot (follow my progress here) and keeping my head above water by being present for my mom...and occasionally doing something for myself that wasn't nose-to-the-grindstone.
Meanwhile, the most beautiful autumn in the world happened. I had an amazing trip to Niagara-on-the-Lake, Ontario with some other Evernight authors--more from the Romance side of the press than from the YA, incredibly fun gals. Wine was drunk. Sweet young Canadian men attempting to serve our rowdy party were made to blush. A good time was had. Actually, passive voice was seldom used. That was some radical self-care. I got a fair amount of writing done, and I am grateful for every moment of it.
I came home to NaNo, the dear husband and my church music duties with him, the Mom, and arghhhh!
The American election.
I have been hamstrung with sorrow for the past several days. I'm a bit of a political junkie, had been a Bernie Sanders supporter because of his understanding of working people--the real Democratic Party core--but I gladly sided with Hillary after the primaries, even if I haven't always agreed with her. And I came to a new respect for her during the debates. I was nervous, but certain that our country would be able to see through the ugly things Donald Trump was saying about women, minorities, the disabled, and Muslims.
The adopted daughter of a friend of mine--a lovely girl who happens to be Chinese by birth--was harassed in her middle school this week. The Latina woman who runs the service that keeps my mom's house for her is frightened. Social media is a Category Five hurricane of fear, anger, false equivalencies, and finger-pointing. Never in all my years on this earth have I seen things get so ugly so fast.
So yeah, I'm still somewhere in the five stages of grief that Colbert so richly sent up on The Late Show the other night.
And the dirty trick is that it's gorgeous outside. Never has the Hudson River Valley looked quite this heartbreakingly, classically autumnal. I've been crying...a lot.
And writing the final book in the Bean triology. Which is what I do. Which is what all writers do.
And so on we go. Fight on, friends!
...Christine Potter is the author of two collections of poetry: Zero Degrees at First Light (2006) and Sheltering In Place (2013). Her third poetry collection, Unforgetting, is forthcoming in the spring of 2018 from Kelsay books.