Yep. I've finally accepted that I'm not so great at this whole blogging thing. I attribute a lot of it to the fact that I don't fancy myself as someone who constantly has interesting things that urgently need be be shared with the world. Well, I guess I do to some extent...it's just that I do it more on Instagram or Twitter. Anyway, this year has been very interesting and busy. The problem is not writer's block or technical difficulties, thank god. I've got inspiration oozing from every one of my creative pores, so I consider myself very lucky. I've been diligently trying to wrap up one book while fighting the urge to write the second half of another one. I'm so excited for readers to meet some of my new characters, like the human embodiment of Dionysus who fell to earth in a pair of Lucchese cowboy boots. Or the half Polish, half Ukranian doctor whose bedside manner is flawed by his connection to the mob. And then there's Finn. Oh, Finn... So yeah, my problem isn't a lack of ideas. My problem is the finite number of hours available in a day, and the competition for those hours. Now for the guilty parties:
My seasonal job at UW Madison asked me back about four months earlier than expected, leaving less time to write. But the extra income is appreciated and springtime on a campus by the lake is gorgeous!
I've been working with horses a few days a week, leaving less time to write. But what they give me in return is so rewarding!
These elements in my life all have their place in my books to one extent or another. Funny though, we've recorded a handful of podcast episodes now yet it didn't dawn on me until yesterday that wine is fairly prevalent in all of my stories. Maybe it's because some of my most uninhibited bouts of writing are fueled by this wondrous elixir. Maybe it's because wine is both liquid courage and contradiction. Contrary to what the Wine Warriors claim, it occasionally is so much more than just grape juice. It unites and divides people with the same power as devout religious faith. It might be described in terms as general as red or white, and then be described as specifically as Montepulciano, Tempranillo, or Bordeaux. Regardless, the descriptions are easily as diverse as the symbolism. Wine is the drink of celebration just as often as it is the comfort in times of despair. It is the truth serum that coaxes out the secret confessions of the heart, and it is the lubricant of bad decisions that force the inevitable plot twist. It's not just grape juice...except when it is.