It should not come as a shock to anyone who knows me that I’m terrible at resting. Pausing. Catching my breath. (And that’s despite having the word breathe tattooed on my wrist.)

During the shutdown, I learned that not only do I need to be around other people as much as I thought I did, but maintaining my regular schedule helped me. That meant hunkering down with my laptop at my regular time every morning and first writing until I finished my novel, then editing and marketing and everything else that comes with publishing a book. I will admit that I pushed my wake-up time by almost an hour, since getting ready for work and the commute were drastically shortened, but keeping that routine was good for me.

In July, my husband and I decided to make an offer on a house, even though we weren’t planning to move, so in the weeks leading up to the launch of Chasing the Sun, we made our house show-ready and had to leave over 30 times for open houses and showings. The launch on August 11 went well, and since about August 18 I’ve felt like I should be doing the next thing.

Brainstorming.

Researching.

Outlining.

But everything in me has resisted. Perhaps, I began to wonder, I need to take a break. Just a short one while we get our house sold and get rid of things we no longer need and and and…

It was finally a comment from my mom one of the many times I was camped out at her apartment during yet another showing that sunk in. She said (and I’m paraphrasing here), “It’s okay to take a break. You have a lot going on.”

Huh.

From that point forward, I’ve cut myself some slack. I’ve focused on the houses (because we officially own TWO homes right now) and enjoyed relaxing afternoons with family, all with the knowledge that I will start my next book soon. And it feels good.