I have this far snuck into all three of my books (those published and those forthcoming) by the back window. I’m not sure why I’m surprised to find that the thing I thought I would write next might not be welcoming me in via the front door. But that idea over there…?

I went to bed at 8 last night, as I had to get up at 3 for a flight. When I woke up, my watch said 9:30, and I flipped out! Why hadn’t my alarm gone off? I’ve missed my flight! I was all the way up and making the bed before I realized: p.m. In my defense, it was still light out.

The return home, post-vacation, presented its usual challenges, not least the fragmentation and scattering of my attention in a dozen directions. I am working on recentering, even as I once again pick up all those neglected obligations.