We had the first annual Detroit Festival of Books here on Sunday. I went for a couple hours, roamed around the tables at Eastern Market and then sat with some fellow authors and signed books. Later in the afternoon I helped out at the (also first, at least in recent times)Detroit Kite Festival, which was organized by a group of friends. The day before, I had a different group over to make Chinese food and watch documentaries about monks and nuns in Asia. It’s been a festive, festival weekend, but also an exhausting one. Today I need to be quiet. Need to let my introvert battery recharge.
I’ve settled into a summer routine. I wake up at around 7:30 or 8. Let Matisse out, meditate, then sit outside with my morning butter coffee (also my breakfast). Come back in and write (or try to). I’ve told you in recent weeks about my challenges with the new novel. They’re still very much challenging. I know most of the scenes now – know which characters are present and roughly what they’re feeling, what they want. But they’re difficult scenes to write, emotionally, and there are quite a few of them. When I do muster the courage to face them, I just want to get through them as quickly as possible. To the point where even line breaks and punctuation go out the window. Just words on the page, words on the page. And then the next day, on a good day, I go back over those words words words, and give them a bit more space, and structure. And quiet. Like the way one might process – and integrate – a painful memory.
Heading into the weekend I hoped for sun and wind. Coming out of it, I’m more okay with whatever might come. The next couple days, at least, I’ll be mostly indoors.