A glimpse of the Appalachian mountains on my way to get hay, as seen through the bug spatter on my windshield. Pretty, don't ya think? It's a necessary trip, but I do so enjoy the scenery, especially now that green is coming back to the world. Spring is wonderful; everything is fresh and tender and vital. I know everyone loves this season change, but sometimes, selfishly, I wonder if farm people don't love it a little more.
Except for the pollen. And except for the fact that spring chores distract me from my writing.
Being between projects is unsettling for me. I'm playing around with Made for Breaking and I've just started something new; I'm two chapters into it and still finding my footing with it. This is the scary part of writing. This is when I wonder, what if I can't do this? I had this naive hope that finishing my Walker Series would make me more certain about these things, but every book is different, and nothing is ever guaranteed. I don't want to jinx myself by talking about it too much, but I'm hoping to be able to soon. Because even though launching into a new project - new characters, new home base, new conflicts - is scary, it's thrilling, too. Right now, I'm looking at the mountains rearing up in the distance and wondering how I'll get over them.
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