I'm in one of those moods where it feels like I don't really have anything to blog about--nothing interesting enough to tell, anyway. I read friends' blogs and they're full of cool escapades: houseboat vacations, writing soap operas, drinking beer in Cardiff, seeing Chuck Berry in St. Louis, living in cool places like Seattle, meeting food-blog celebrities, and so forth.
I have not been doing much of anything. That might be because we recently got an HD Tivo and are watching a lot of television. I've been working on rewriting my YA novel The Other Olwen. I've been doing some art-related experiments with non-toxic methods of transferring inkjet prints to watercolor paper, in preparation for a new series of pieces I want to do (and to help Rob with a new class in alternative drawing methods), but I'm not quite at the point where I'm ready to do the actual artworks yet. I've been attempting to get caught up with large numbers of piddly tasks associated with being President of an organization. I'm also trying to get caught up with my freelance research job, which I sort of blew off for about a month while I was working on the Welsh conference. When you put it all like that, I sound busy. None of it is particularly noteworthy, though.
I did write a rather lengthy book review on our ReadingYA blog, before finding out that a quite excellent review of this book had already been posted earlier and I somehow missed it. I've also started posting again to our WritingYA blog, so I'm trying to get in the mindset for blogging, but I feel moody and blah. This feels like a time period for a lot of grunt work and not a lot of reward. This is the part they never tell you about being an artist or writer.