My dad died last Tuesday. That day was also the second day I had returned to writing after a nice, luxurious weekend away from my merry band of technomages. Since then, the urge to write, the ability to concentrate, has not been there. I haven’t been able to really even watch TV–the only activity I’ve been able to do successfully is PvP on SWTOR. I’ve been walking around in a daze, and time has passed more quickly than I ever would have anticipated.
I sit here now, on the balcony of my hotel in Phoenix, at a conference for work. I figured the time away from condolence messages and sympathy handshakes would do me a world of good, and I was right. I flew out yesterday, spent the night wandering around the mall, reading, and adjusting to the time-change-induced jetlag. Today, the conference started, and I’m starting to feel more ready to deal with life moving on.
I’m writing this as I take a break from working on Lineage. I had hit a good groove a couple weeks back where I thought that if I kept that pace while I was gone, I could finish the novel while I was in Arizona. Turns out that life had a different plan, but I still think I can finish the draft a whole month ahead of schedule anyway.
But it’s nice to be getting back into the swing of things, writing again. It might not sound like much, but getting out 500 words–500 coherent words–feels like I’ve written the next Hamlet.