Last Monday, I had edited and readied for publication two author interviews and a long-overdue book review. Filled with hubris at my productivity, I gave a little cough to clear my throat and proclaim my triumph over lesser mortals.
I could not stop coughing for the next seven days. Add chills, body aches, fever, lack of appetite and a general inclination to remain unbathed and you have the puny remains of my flu-ravaged self.
Word count on the latest novel draft since that fateful Monday = 0
Published articles/blog posts since that fateful Monday = 0
Tomorrow is a new day. I’m climbing out of the menthol-vapor soaked depths of delirium. I managed to submit the two interviews, tomorrow will be the book review, and I’ll be up early to add words to the Work in Progress.
I read a beautiful novel while I was recuperating. It’s not new, my sister had been recommending it for months, and it was a big hit when it was first released. I will offer that it’s timeless, eloquent, and magical. I cried when it ended. It’s called Peace Like a River and I hope everyone reads it. I also watched Pride and Prejudice again for a gazillionth time. Comfort food.
Sometimes we have to take care of ourselves. Creativity does indeed sleep.