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The Places I Go'd
I have the brain zoomies. It’s that thing of when I turn something in, and a sudden vacuum is created where mental preoccupation with said work used to be, and also, that vacuum can only be sated with new mental preoccupations related to the next stage of life/effort for that same work. Tell me you know what I mean.
This is the part of the story where I want to have the same conversation over and over with myself, or my partner, or my writing wife, or, ooo maybe I can journal. Yeeessss.
Journaling is one of the things I haven’t been doing. Skating is the other. It feels stupid and gross and I don’t like it, and also that’s somehow not helping.
I’ve also been busy or in the brief moment between busies during which I want to sit down. But I don’t plan to go anywhere between now and the end of August, so mayhaps? I will stop being a failure at the personal things I want to do? WHO CAN SAY.
That’s enough of that.
Where I’ve been:
(And beware, there be links ahead!)
I spent a few days in the Twin Cities, gallivanting with my writing wife, Amy Suiter Clarke, to celebrate the release of her propulsive new thriller, Lay Your Body Down. We got to do a live event together FINALEMENT, which you can watch on replay here!
We visited a lovely selection of indie bookstores, because nobody indies like Minnesota indies, but the hosting venue was Black Garnet Books and they were SUPERB. They also have a veritable treasure trove of signed stock for both Amy and I, so shop them!
And then, there was Montreal. It was the first time my son, Ezra, and I have been back together since the last Sunday we went to our home church in February of 2020. And it was good for the soul.
But life comes at you fast.
I don’t love the aspect ratio situation there, but what am I gonna do, NOT keep reliving the complicated joy of playing in Ezra’s childhood park? Bosh! Flimshaw!*
*What’s hilariously appropos about that particular Simpsons quote is that Mr. Burns’ ancestor is responding to a young man foretelling the rise of unions.
My father called and asked for the name of my latest release, thinking I’d published something since Cherish Farrah (his favorite, btw) without talking to him about it. Like, it was fully out in the world. He was adorably not upset at this prospect, just wanted to know the name of the non-existent new release to pass on to someone. And it’s that kind of positive reinforcement that ensures I will never stop being chaotic and anarchistic. So ask yourself: how have I enabled Bethany C Morrow today?
I’ll probably tell you before my next book hits shelves, though, maybe. I don’t know. We’ll see.