Right now, I am sitting on my pillow pile, lap desk in my lap. Outside, it’s grey and intermittently rainy. There is a package of pens (not the ones pictured) on its way to me, possibly arriving today. My tea mug is empty (again,) and, as soon as I finish this entry, I can get up and make more tea. It may possibly be chai. In the later afternoon, there will be groceries. This may or may not expand my tea choices. It may also expand my pen inventory, but that is a risk I am willing to take.

This past weekend, I attended our monthly CR-RWA meeting, where Jean C. Gordon took us through her Gone in Sixty Minutes synopsis workshop. Now, I have one eye on my notebook, as I go through the Monday stuff, because I want to get back to what I was doing on Saturday afternoon.

I’m not usually excited about writing synopses. Writing a whole book is, somehow, easier than giving a brief summary of what the book is about, and what it means for the two lead characters. Do not ask me why. All I know is that, usually, when I hear the word, “synopsis,” I immediately forget the entire book, stare blankly, and mutter something that sounds vaguely like “ummm….”

This time, however, I’m much closer to “this is super cool, and I can’t wait to hunker down and get to it.”  I even like the idea of writing the synopsis before writing the book, and may have to give that a go at some point.’That may be close to what Melva and I are doing with Chasing Prince Charming right now. I used Her Last First Kiss for the hands-on part of the workshop, as well as reconnected with a once upon a time critique partner, about resuming that relationship, and, now, that it’s time to get back into the serious business of making book (literally) I feel more…grounded may be the best word. I was not expecting that, but I will take it.

That work isn’t for today, though, because Monday is for doing Monday things. Getting ready to Skype with Melva, making a grocery run, transcribing longhand pages. Keeping one eye on the clock, because I know when the mail carrier brings our building’s mail, and there is a very good chance that there may be pens in there. Not that I know exactly what sort of pens they are going to be, because this is from a pen exchange on a Facebook group for pen enthusiasts. I am also getting a bunch of pens ready to send off to my exchange partner, someone whom I know very little about, other than their address and taste in pens. Sometimes, that’s all one needs to know, only enough to take care of the task at hand. If that hand happens to be holding an awesome pen, well, that’s a plus.

As usual, the weekend included some craft store tourism with Housemate. This time, I cracked open the marker paper insert I’d been wanting for a long time, open as soon as I got it home, whipped out some markers and stamps and stencils, and started throwing stuff onto pages that were not the first page (excellent art trick to get over the reluctance to ruin the first page of a new sketchbook/insert.)

Again, this is kind of similar to something Melva and I are doing with our first draft of Drama King, and what a combination of talks with N, Saturday’s workshop, and a few other factors, have me wanting to do with  Her Last First Kiss. Maybe one of the pens in the pen-ding delivery will find its purpose in doing exactly that.

I already know what my reward, at the end of the day, will be. Right now, I have one re-read of a classic historical romance for my before-bed reading, and one brand new contemporary YA, by two authors who always hit the mark, on my phone, to nip into when I have spare moments. Both of those are the kind of read where I find myself thinking about the characters during the day, hoping they don’t do anything interesting without me. They usually don’t, Other people’s characters are usually better behaved than my own, and happy to wait for me before they get back into the action.

Not so with my own imaginary friends. Getting up to stuff is pretty much in their job descriptions. They’ll run off the planned route, on a whim, make decisions and take actions that I did not authorize first. Oftentimes, they come up with better stuff than I do, and maybe this is what they will do, tonight, when I am scanning the shelves for no sugar added applesauce, or cruising the pen aisle for fun things to toss into a package I will mail out later this week.

It’s important to stay in the moment, and do the thing in front of us, but, sometimes, casting a glance at the horizon can be an excellent reminder of where we’re going, and why we want to be there.