After many minor complications the Silencing Sapphire manuscript finally got sent to my agent yesterday.
Though I will soon be entering months of applying notes from the agent and editor, I am right now faced with something I haven't had for awhile: free time.
I can't do anything with the manuscript until the notes come back, so my option is either to take a risk and use the time to start working on the 3rd book, knowing that major movements in Silencing Sapphire could still change, or do the more reasonable, yet unthinkable, nothing at all.
Besides from my vacation to Sweden a few months back, I haven't willingly done "nothing at all" for about seven years. Every waken moment that I haven't been working, running errands, or doing other obligations, have been spent writing.
When I had dead time on Stalking Sapphire last year, every second of it was spent on the sequel and quite frankly, I don't know what I would do with myself if I had two full days off.
The last time I remember doing nothing at all, I was in my late teens and I'm not so sure lying hung over in my pajamas on my mother's couch all day, watching TV and whining: "mo-ho-om, what's for dinneeer?" would fly in my adult life.
First of all, I would panic and feel guilty, knowing that I was wasting a perfectly good writing day. Second of all, if I now whined "what's for dinneeer?" the only reply from my husband would be: "don't know, what are you cooking?" and it's not because I'm a 50s housewife, but because my husband is a terrible cook and has simply been banned from the kitchen. His best gourmet meals often involve such fine ingredients as chopped hot dogs and hamburger helper. Bon appetite.
Still, I woke up today with the intention of giving "nothing at all" a go, just to see how it would play out. I made it to about 9 a.m., then casually peered over my husband's shoulder as he was plotting out his CASTLE spec script and asked if he needed help. To my relief, he said yes and I have now managed to make it past noon with only six hours to go before I can officially call it a night.
I have a small feeling I won't make it that long before my laptop magically opens on its own and my fingers conveniently start showing signs of alien hand syndrome right above the keyboard.