This week I received a print proof of Molly’s Song! Though the actual cover will be a little different from what you see pictured above, this marks the first time that I have gotten to hold the final product in my hands, almost two years after I wrote the very first word. The secret of being a writer is that very few of us make a living from books alone, primarily because it takes a long time to write, edit, submit, and publish a book. Though I have read the manuscript dozens of times with an eye towards editing, I had not read it for enjoyment, so when I got the copy in the mail, I poured myself a Dr. Pepper and sat down on the porch, book in hand. It’s not a bad story, if I may say so myself. It should be available for pre-orders soon, so stay tuned for further updates.
We are coming up to the end of the semester. Virtual final exams start next week and grades are due by May 14th. Then, I’ll have a few weeks off before teaching a couple of online classes during the Summer 1 semester which starts on June 7th. Those classes last five weeks, and once they conclude, I will be off until late August. Right now, it is looking like we will be back to normal college operations for the fall semester, though a lot can change between now and then. It will certainly feel strange to be in a classroom full of people again. I know that once I go back to teaching face to face, my voice will struggle. After a year of not using it for hours each day, it will take a while to gain strength back. But we have a while before we have to worry about that.
The other day, I was thinking about how I’ve basically spent over a year now (since March 6, 2020) watching a pandemic year pass by from the confines of my front porch. Sure, I get out every now and then to go to doctor appointments, but weeks will go by without me leaving the house apart from driving down to the beach to drink my coffee when the weather is nice. As I don’t watch the news or even much in the way of live television, this whole experience has been on the surreal side. Living in a pandemic year is akin to living in the Twilight Zone without the aliens. Still, as far as these entries go, it will be nice to one day read back through them and remind myself of what all I had going on. Who knows? Maybe some historian, long after I am dead and gone, will stumble on it and use it as a basis for a dissertation or something. It could be called, “The Great Pandemic Of 2020 As Experienced By The World’s Most Boring Person,” or something like that. Maybe that way, I could retroactively make some great contribution to humanity.
Until next time, friends, take care of yourselves. And each other.