Time Off for Good Behavior

Writers in general are awfully hard on themselves, and I am no exception. Way back in the dark ages, when I decided to quit my job to become a full-time writer, I made a promise to myself. I was not going to be one of those writers who played around at the craft, who wrote "when I have time." I was a full-time, eight-hours-a-day writer, often including weekends. I did not take vacations or sick days or mental health days. I intended to give it all I had, every ounce of time, energy and determination I could squeeze out of myself.

And I did.

Flash forward twenty years. Although I'm not quite the whip-cracker I used to be, I still spend at least seven or eight hours a day in my office minimum, working on writing or writing-related activities. If I travel for any reason, I take the laptop with me so I can write during any lull in activities. In my car, I listen to writing workshops or I use my little recorder to dictate my writing. I am literally afraid to take time off. I'm afraid the gods will punish me for being "lazy."

But I've just come off an incredibly difficult year of tight deadlines, lots of revisions, editor changes, and teaching lots and lots of workshops. I promised myself I would take some time off to handle everything I've neglected in recent months--getting my hair cut, for example. Taking my pets to the vet. Income tax forms. Scrubbing the bathtub.

My original plan was to take off a year from Harlequin American. Yes, a year! I have books scheduled pretty far into the future, so I wouldn't be interrupting my publication schedule. I wanted to take one month off of writing completely, then spend the rest of the year working on a couple of other books (big suspense books) that I never seem to find time to write.

I quickly revised the initial plan. A year without Harlequin was unthinkable. Six months would surely be enough of a break to refresh me.

But now, two weeks into my "vacation" (hah!) I'm already starting to get antsy to write another Harlequin American. As a matter of fact, I have a proposal for a new trilogy almost ready to go--it just needs a bit of polish. It's calling to me from its file folder with its siren song. Forget that dark, scary suspense book. Come play with me, I'm light and funny!

Three weeks off is enough, right?