Dreaming, reading, writing: my nature as an escapist

With the edits on the proof of Crystal and Wand finally in the hands of my awesome publisher (YAY! Release coming SOON SOON SOON I promise!), I am finding myself a little adrift. The creepy dollhouse story aside, there are any number of other ideas that I could look at as well — most of them being on my harddrive, which I’m still waiting to get back from the repair guy (long story short: don’t let your bearded dragon poop on your computer!).  Plus my list of other things to do. Household organization (and reorganization), parenting, bill paying, gardening, and the like. You know. Grown-up stuff.  The trouble is I’m an escapist. I just want to read. I finally read a book for myself, for the first time in months, just yesterday (still need to write up a review for you), in the space of four quiet hours. Normally, you see, I skim around my favourite blogs and hubs, reading nonfiction, informational, quirky or human-interest stories, finding out what’s going on in the world and learning about stuff in general. I like doing that, too. But because I tend to get interrupted often, I rarely get the luxury of sinking into a lovely drawn-out fiction. It now feels a bit decadent to devote a whole afternoon to a book, although let’s face it — if it’s not a book, it’s article after article after article through io9.com or Gawker. Or Buzzfeed. Usually brought to my attention via Facebook.   

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If I’m not reading SOMETHING, then the other temptation I face is to go sleep for a while. I love dreaming, even when it’s got the annoying element of being in a car that brakes too slowly, almost drives off a cliff into a river, or I discover it’s driverless and I’m having to take the wheel and find the pedals by contorting myself from the passenger side or the backseat. The problem is that sleeping too much is unhealthy, and is rather too escapist. Plus, I always forget to write the damned dreams down so that activity becomes pretty unfruitful, except for the temporary enjoyment.

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Anyway, maybe I’ll keep on with the creepy dollhouse, see where it takes me — there are an awful lot of what-ifs in my head. Maybe I’ll do a light-and-dark concept, with a romantic / fluffy piece to counter the dark / freaky thing that feels like it’s coming. There will either be evil, vengeful Wee Folk or ghosts. Hey, my imagination says, Why not both? 

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And in the meantime, stuff to do. I was feeling a bit bad again today, thinking I hadn’t been productive enough, but when I was chatting with my friend David and related that I’d taken Bridget to her doctor’s appointment, made a few needed phone calls, helped her learn / practice some math skills by letting her budget some money sent to her by my great-aunt so she could buy some crafty things at the dollar store and pay for them herself (sincere apologies to the nice lady behind us at the till who just wanted to pay for her iced tea and leave but was held up by Bridget’s anxious confusion between the value of a loonie and the value of a toonie in counting out seven dollars and ninety-six cents — we thank you for your patience!), took her on a walk to the school she’ll be going to for grades four through six, with Elizabeth on her leash clinging to my chest (tomorrow we take Skittles on the journey), and attended Jack’s soccer game after supper. He pointed out to me (bless you, Dave!) that in fact I did have a productive day and it was okay to feel tired. I am NOT Wonder Woman or Mary Poppins or a Time Lord. (Maybe that should be my mantra?) I can only do what I can do. All the wonderful things I envision happening in a musical montage of whirlwind cleaning, sorting, training (hey, both kids have done their laundry this week AND done a few dishes!) are just not humanly possible.

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Although . . . Wonder Woman, Mary Poppins, Time Lord — that’d be one helluva cosplay mashup, now wouldn’t it? And isn’t Mary Poppins really Gallifreyan ANYWAY???

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Yeah, Moffat’s all over that one.

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I want to sigh, and yet I can see the possibilities there  . . . and so off I go, finding yet another fun way to dream, avoid the chores (they’re always there anyway), because if it’s not reading or writing, it’s designing and crafting.

Good thing I’m not a maniacal villain determined to take over the world, now, isn’t it? Take ON the world, on the other hand . . .

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I need chocolate.

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