I'm just stretching between efforts to edit my book. It is going along. I hope to complete my last read-through by end of day. Thereafter, the main body of work will be in the hands of the editor, though I will be applying her work to the document as I receive her feedback. Over the next nine days, I'm going to try to complete an index for the volume, though at the moment I am unhappy with the results. I need to take some time and educate myself about this last task.
I can't imagine why anyone will care. I'm writing this now as a sort of diary. I want to look back at this post in a year or two and try to remember how I felt and what it was like to go through this process. I have my doubts that I will ever write a book as difficult as this again, or in as little time (8 months!). Who knows, however. I am always pushing myself out of my comfort zone.
I find every time I speak to people lately - and that extends to writing this now - I want to apologize. It's a stupid habit, I don't know where it is coming from (probably the stress), but it is there and it aggravates. My level of stress has been steadily falling since a week today. The passing of the fundraiser on Thursday was a big improvement. I'm still working all day, however, meaning I still can't give myself wholly towards making my world. I can't wait for that to change.
I've experienced the extreme drop that comes when all stress vanishes, so I've been waiting for that depression to hit. I suspect it will after the 15th. I hope it doesn't make itself known before then. Steadily, as my checklist of things to do diminishes, I find myself awaking with less and less motivation to dig in and finish. This, I know, can kill a project - but no one should worry about me. This is not my first rodeo. I know how to work even when I'm depressed.
Ah, D&D. I'm glad it hasn't been tarnished throughout all this. I haven't stared the beast in the face, seen it for what it is and thought, "Why am I playing this kid's game?" No, rather, I miss my game. I miss it very badly. Actually hurts me a bit. Those who might be concerned that, after all this, I won't be able to pick up the reins again, there is no reason to worry. I'm an addict. I'm suffering withdrawal, not lack of heart.
I know when I start playing again, finding the energy to handle a game is going to challenge me. I'm going to have to go slow, like an astronaut returning to Earth and adapting to the gravity again. I have plans to push myself these next six weeks, to kick my body out of this chair and get it in shape to stand on a concrete floor for several days in Toronto. I feel very confident that putting my brain on hold so that I can hike or try kayaking again (though I sunburned my shins for the first time in my life) will be a blessing.
Well, that's all the news that's fit to print. I should get back to the work now.