Hi, clowder. I know it’s been a minute, since mid-October, in fact.
For those of you in the thick of the holiday rush-about, here’s the neat quick version:
I made plans.
Goddess laughed.
Then She let me in on the joke.
I had to admit, She had a point.
If you have to stop here, that’s fine. The rest of the missive will be waiting for you, when you’re ready. But do check out this awesome Aurora Borealis pic before you go!
For everyone else, here are some further deets…
I will admit, perhaps it was a bit overly ambitious to plan to debut a few things during my natal month, especially with an eclipse season starting up right before my actual birthday. As well, perhaps it was a bit overly optimistic to believe that I would actually churn out a bunch of writing on a trip Way Up North, and/or during Himself’s busy birthday weekend, and/or in the week between both of these occasions. On the other hand, getting sick and winding up with a sinus infection, and not being able to shake said infection, definitely was not a part of the original equation. (I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday afternoon, thanks for asking.)
What is it they say about the best laid plans? ;-)
I managed to bring Inktober across the finish line, but NaNoWriMo fell flat on its face and never recovered. One-fourth or so of my nonfiction project is on a Word document, with the rest awaiting proper transcription. BUT - this is a Big Deal, people - I discovered that I can read books again and not have my brain short circuit!
I think it was back in September 2022 when I tried to read a whole book in one day (like I used to before Covid) and my brain needed the rest of week to recover from the experience. Can I read a book in one day? Probably not anymore. Can I parcel it out over a week or so and really dive into it? Definitely. Can I get so wrapped up in reading the story that I start to opine aloud, in a public setting, about how bad an idea it is to let a character drive a stick shift when they’ve never driven one before? You betcha!
As November yielded to December, there was the aforementioned (non-Covid) bug that flew up my nose, and I finally had to admit that all of the wheels had fallen off all of the wagons, and just maybe resting for Yuletide would be my best course of (non)action. As of Monday, my energy levels were closer to “normal” and I’m back to being able to breathe decently without launching into wicked coughing jags at the drop of a hat. Some of the phlegm got in behind my ears, though, and the effect is like wearing noise-cancelling headphones without the hardware. Very frustrating at times. I used to be able to shake stuff like this off in a week or so, but it seems Long Covid has rewired my immune system as well. I saw a doc at the urgent care clinic yesterday and am now armed with some high powered decongestants to see if they'll clear me out.
Hitting the reset button has given me some time to think about my place in the Substackverse, and I am seeing two currents of Ambition arise: the Artistic Writer wants to fulfill her promise of publishing stories here; the Mystic Priestess sees opportunities to expand her Presence and be a Beacon of Hope. I don’t think these are mutually exclusive goals or roles, but the language each uses, the visions they deal in, create different spheres of influence and would land differently in the ‘verse. January might be a revisioning of plans moving forward into Year Two on Substack; naturally, I will keep the clowder updated.
Speaking of, time to step back into Real Life and throw some laundry into the dryer. Until next time, may the wassail and eggnog flow freely! (in both leaded and unleaded versions.
Cats were created as agents of healing. And books are the structural walls of our life. So glad you’re feeling better.
Glad you are feeling better! I just read an article about “long cold” and thought, “FFS, what next?!”
And hooray on being able to read whole books again! 🥳