In bliss

rain, cool, temps 19

Not a bad day - rain didn't start until about 1pm. Went for a walk with the dogs this morning, then had breakfast on the screen porch then to work. Michael worked in the living room too, on his laptop, and I worked on mine.

I'm at the amazing, blessed stage where I'm totally enjoying the book and the process. I love doing it, and the only reason I stop everyday is because I get tired. There's no fear anymore.

I've come to realize how riddled my life can be with fear - and how crippling that is. It's both a weight and a barrier. Fear stands between me and inspiration, creativity, gratitude, enjoyment. It's not always 'nightfall', but more like a perpetual twilight, of semi-enjoyment, of bliss sampled then placed just out of reach.

But when fear is gone, wow. Even if the book is crap - and I know now it won't be - but even if it is, at least I'm loving writing it.

I almost always reach this stage in the books - sometimes sooner, sometimes later. But once achieved it so far has stayed with me for the rest of the process - until I have to show the book to someone other than Michael. Then night falls.

But I'm not there now.

Today I worked for about 4 hours, and would have worked more but we wanted to visit a few artist friends on the Tour des Arts and today is the last day.

I think that's also a big part of my enjoyment - I'm being far more reasonable about the editing. Taking my time, not riding myself so hard. There is no way this book won't be written and ready by the deadline. And even if it isn't, well, worse things have happened. Losing the pleasure of writing is a 'worse thing'.

Last year I practically killed myself to get book 4 written/edited/polished and to Teresa my agent before the end of the summer, so that we could go on the world tour. For various reasons she chose not to give it to the editors until November anyway - they took a month or more to get back to me, then even longer to give me the notes and I was still doing their edits in April, when I'd hoped to be enjoying a month off in London.

I think that shattered my nerves a bit. Now I've decided to just slow down, write and edit to my needs and see what happens. The editors are reasonable people - and I'm hoping they'd rather have a healthy, creative, inspired and happy writer producing a good (perhaps even great) book - than a mess churning out drivel.

However, there is a lot about the publishing industry that is surprising me, so I could be wrong about that.

But for now I'm in absolute heaven with this book.

Hope you're enjoying yourselves too and getting a chance to re-new yourselves this summer. You probably don't need me to say it, since I'm fairly new to the concept myself but - be kind to yourself.

Tour des Taxes, and des Arts

mainly sunny, humid, growing hot, temps 29

It started out sunny but cool and has grown hotter and more humid as the day's gone on. Spent this morning at the Canadian gov't tax place, but finally got the forms stamped for the German publisher. We seem to need to do this every 2 years. Also got the Spanish contracts signed and mailed.

Then Michael and I headed back to the country.

One of the really fun annual events out here is called the Tour Des Arts - where artists who live in the area open their studios to the public for 10 days. There are 40 artists on the Tour, from all different disciplines. Cheryl called the other days and made a few suggestions so when we drove back to the country we decided to do the 'Tour'.

Started with the Potton Valley Quilters - a group of elderly women who do fantastic quilts. We put our name in for the raffle. Fingers crossed. Then we had lunch - home-made. I had French Canadian pea soup - which is made from yellow peas and loads of smoked ham. Michael had a hamburger soup - which was good, but not as good as the pea. We segued directly to dessert. Michael did the carrot cake and I had the jumbleberry - both with vanilla ice cream.

Yum.

These quite substantial elderly women floated around the small room sometimes serving, sometimes sitting and eating, sometimes just chatting. We all sat at each other's tables, since there wasn't all that much seating. It was great. Went next door where there is a permanent garage sale. Bought old Life, 17, Chateleine and Saturday Evening Post magazines. Dollar each.

As I get older I realizing I'm spending more and more time trying to crawl back - not to the womb, but to the 1950's. This place was a good fit.

Then we hopped in the car and went into the mountains and found two other stops on the Tour des Arts. A woman who makes jewelery (bought 2 necklaces) and a man, Craig Skinner who does oil painting. They both live next to, almost on top of, the Ruiter brook. Stunning location, this is a stream that really rushes and tumbles, eddies and pools. Wonderful.

Craig's home is like something out of a fairytale. Cheryl said we'd love it and she was right. It's a tiny place, which he built himself, out of wood. There's a winding stone path with bushes in flower and steps up to an old wood door. Inside it's one room, with old kitchen one side, living room the other, dining table in between, and stairs leading up, with a walkway from one side to the other of the cathedraled room. One open bedroom up there. His bathroom sink is a flower urn. I just wanted to curl up there and never leave.

But couldn't. Had to scoot home, pick up puppies, change cars, get the organic vegetable from Yan's farm and am now at the Sutton office waiting for Gary to come and take a chest of drawers away we're giving to his son Evan, who is leaving home to go to CEJEP in Montreal.

CEJECP is a system unique to Quebec, as far as I know. After grade 11 kids change schools and take 2 years in this kind of college. It's meant to fight the drop-out rate, prepare some kids for vocations and others for University. It seems to be working quite well, except...

In the cxountry there aren't any CEJEPS, so kids here have to move to Montreal, or Sherbrooke to go to school - which means leaving home at 16. It've very hard - on the kids and the parents. Evan though is a great young man and will do great. But it's still scary.

I'm off - take care...Gary's knocking. Too bad the chest of drawers is so awful. But I suspect a 16 year old might not notice - here's hoping.