Spring is my catnip. At the first hint of it, I go slightly nuts. It’s what happens from living in the Midwest, I suppose. My hardy soul shrivels down to a stunted little nub in the wintertime, and so it’s really no surprise when I turn slightly schizophrenic upon sighting that first blade of green grass. My brain immediately explodes with wondrous outdoor project after outdoor project, with little attention left over for anything else: Mowing! Pruning! Mulching! Weeding! The ideas shoot off like pinwheels and Roman candles that demand my complete and utter devotion.
After about a month of this self-inflicted joy/torture, I get my fill of catnip and everything returns to normal again. But until that time, all of my good intentions suffer. This year’s spring victim? My writing. I have approximately six chapters left to write in my second book, and then some editing revisions to follow. If I’m diligent, I should be able to finish in about eight weeks, and yet…my concentration has already wandered to the Great Outdoors. I’ve already returned my goldfish to their pond, mulched and pruned about half my flowerbeds and shrubs, and next week I’ll need to wrestle my lawnmower from its shed to annihilate the dandelion army that is slowly overtaking my yard. Even the dogs are encouraging me to be off-task. They’ve lured me down to the river already to dig in the sand and frolic in the water (them, not me, I swear). I tend to be a bit of a procrastinator anyway and am often distracted by bright and shiny things…so maybe I’m part crow? That would explain quite a lot.
It’s times like these that I find myself grateful I’m not under a publishing house contract. Yes, I have my own deadlines and like to stick to them as closely as possible, but it alleviates some of the pressure to know that my pace is still my own. If I become a victim to spring’s off-task charms, so be it. Luckily, it’s always a temporary madness anyway.
That said, next week I plan on posting the book blurb for Watermark, my upcoming release, which now looks like it will occur closer to summer 2017 than spring. Stay tuned for more details! Until then, rest assured: The catnip will run its course, folks, I promise.
Copyright © 2016-2017 Marti Ziegler