I dropped time and lost the ball
On what's going on
Morning darklings,
My calendar was wrong. The Clocks Kickstarter ends in 51 minutes. I thought I had a full day. I was going to send a whole long write up as to why you needed to help us get over this last little hump, encourage you to bombard your friends and family to buy the book last minute, the whole kit and kaboodle. Stickers are on the line. Full credit cards that need a little extra help are on the line. The authors' boasting rights are on the line.
Instead, I can tell you that there will be Late Pledges. People can still get the book and support us for another month, but it is, admittedly different. You won't be able to get killed off in the acknowledgments, which some definitely think is the best part.
But it's still a fantastic book, whether or not you can be in it.
Speaking of fantastic, here is an author talking about her inspiration and another sharing a recommendation list one might appreciate if they like Clocks.
Madi Haab
cvanryswyk
Okay, I need to be honest, as I try to be. It's not just my calendar that had me losing the ball. It's my brain, also my desire, also my energy.
Yesterday, I had therapy and told my therapist that I'm tired of being a publisher right now. I am enjoying my selfish recovery time (cause yes, my foot is still hurting badly). I'm enjoying waking up whenever—sometimes at 5:30, sometimes at 7:00—and deciding if I want to paint or play with clay, if I want to scour Facebook marketplace for a large mirror or research the best sheets, if I want to brainstorm plot points for my next book or write on my non-fiction, if I want to listen to an audiobook or music or crack the window and let the birdsong be enough to quite the constant ringing in my ears. And oh how wonderful it's been to stop when I want to. My self-imposed deadline to get the projects done comes from a place of wanting to see things done, nothing more.
It's been nice to just be a Disabled creative for a while.
Telling my therapist that took so much out of me I came home, barely got into pajamas, and lost the rest of my day buoying from sleep to heavy fatigue I described in Joyce for pages upon pages because it's hard to explain.
Or maybe life is what took my day away. The speaking my truth bit was the release I needed. Who knows. Bodies are funny in that way—always holding and letting go, remembering and knowing and waiting to be understood. Like cats. Figure them out and you're golden.
But I haven't figured out the two cats I have out just yet, just like I'm still working on my body. I only know when I know.
Recently, I realized that Rory walks me around the house once or twice because she wants to make sure I'll follow her. Half of the time, she doesn't want anything but just that knowledge, that I'm there for her.
Recently, I realized I'm happier when I have time and space to randomly watch a movie for a friend running a film festival. She says, we need opinions on this one in particular, and I can do it within the day. I don't have to schedule it in six months in advance. What a world.
Both of those things may have been obvious to outsiders, but being in it is different.
I'm thrilled to see Clocks in the world, to schedule a reading for the wonderful authors, but I cannot wait for the time when I can watch movies without realizing the time has flown by faster than planned. I want to think, Wow, it's the end of the month. Crazy. Look at all the time I spent with the hubs and friends and the art I've made and the food I've cooked. Nothing more.
With that being said, I'm off to an estate sale to hopefully get a chair. I have a lot to do this weekend and next, but I've got to sneak one more thing for just me in before I get back to work.
Until next time, harness the Little darknesses and embrace the Little things.
Just more times people are talking about Clocks
katherinequevedo
Courtney Raines's Tumblr post
Niyyah R. Haqq's Instagram post
