Housekeeping

I have a book due next month and last weekend I printed out everything I'd written, checked in to a hotel, read the manuscript start-to-finish, cut it up with scissors, put it all in a new order and stuck it back together with Scotch tape. After about seven hours of this fun, I stood up and was so stiff I could barely hobble to the minibar to extract the $12 bag of cashews.

Diabolical minibar aside, the hotel turned out to be a fantastic idea. I worried I'd feel just as unfocused in a rented room as I do at home, but it was astonishing how much more easily I could concentrate without internet, children, cooking, dust bunnies, goats, chickens, garden, books, phone calls, bills, Lost DVDs, et cetera. Let me repeat that first part: It was astonishing how much better I could concentrate without internet.

About the book. I got the contract early this year, just before my mother died. Later, I put off posting about it because I didn't want to jinx the writing, about which I was extremely anxious. Now I feel coy not posting about it, like I have to explain why I haven't been chatting about the book cheerfully and self-promotionally for months. Two word answer: nervous wreck.

The book is about food, of course. For some reason, the publisher was not interested in using my photography. More details to come. Fall 2011.