Of course, it wasn't all relaxing and reading and eating (speaking of, I need to go to the gym tonight...). I am currently working on the next article for America in WWII magazine. And, as any good historian does, I have managed to gather a massive amount of research. I remember a museum curator told me once, "The historian with the most stuff wins." If my research methods are any indication (read: lots and lots of paperwork), I could probably win the gold medal.
However, all of this stuff has to be filtered into a 2500-3000 word article. I wrestled with it all weekend long, and finally ended up with a rough draft last night. I didn't sigh in relief, though, because the hard work awaits - i.e. editing.
During the weekend, my family tried to engage me in conversation. My husband asked whether or not I wanted Christmas decorations in the front yard. My mom wanted some advice. My daughter tried explaining a new game she found.
I heard what they were saying, but I don't think I processed any of it.
Instead, my head was jam-packed with how I was going to write this article. I was mentally shifting paragraphs, deleting others, making notes on what I needed to add and subtract. I ate a little too much apple pie, and my back hurt from sitting too long. Tunnel vision at its finest.
Sometimes I think too much. My husband says I live inside my head a lot, and that is why he doesn't mind that the house isn't spotless. I am, in his words, an intellectual. That's a label I'll take any day. Indeed, I often forget to clean, and only after I emerge from my fog do I realize I need to scrub the floor or clean the bathroom sink. It's a good thing I have an understanding husband who helps me do laundry and dishes and can also cook better than I can.Of course, all of this focus on the article has made it impossible to focus on the novel. That's how it should be as the article needs my full attention at this point. I'm not one of those that can work on two intellectually-demanding projects at a time. My brain would pop.
Onward!
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