Getting away from it all

by Diana

I’m in Erlanger, KY this weekend, as a guest instructor at the Writers Retreat Workshop. I’ll talk more about the workshop itself later on, but the main thing I wanted to talk about is the retreat itself.

The thing is, I’ve been a little stressed out the past few weeks. Just a little. A wee bit. (I’m sure some of the others here know what I’m talking about!) It’s not just the fact that my book comes out in a few weeks. (Okay, that’s a huge major part of it, but still…) It’s also all of the stuff that needs to be done between now and then–the blog posts, the interviews, the postcards and swag, scheduling appearances–in addition to the every day demands of life.

I’d committed to teaching at this workshop several months ago, and in the last couple of weeks I was beginning to wonder if I was stretching myself too thin and whether I was going to be completely exhausted by the end of the weekend. I was up at an ungodly hour this morning–far earlier than planned thanks to a lack of ability to sleep–and by the time my plane landed in KY I was seriously doubting my ability to make it through the next few days.

I was delivered to the retreat center and given the key to my room:


My first thought was. “Wow. Spartan.”

But my second thought was. “Wow. I think this is going to be exactly what I need.”


Then I went outside:


And my thought was, “Oh, yeah, this is what I needed.”


I realized that for the next few days I wasn’t going to have to even think about the daily stuff. I could focus on…me. I could catch up on the interviews and blog posts and get back to the other fiction writing that I’d been putting off. I could talk about writing and craft and all of the stuff that I love doing at cons… without the frenetic and exhausting pace of a con.

To be honest, I didn’t realize just how stressed out I was until I began to UNstress. For the first time in many many weeks, I’m starting to feel relaxed. I fly back home on Tuesday, at which time it will be three weeks until the release of Mark of the Demon.


I wonder how many massages I can afford between now and then?

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