Summer is drawing to a close here on Vancouver Island. You can hear it in the low moan of morning fog horns and in the crackle of russet leaves falling in the forest. You can smell it in the jammy scent of over-ripe blackberries drifting through the afternoon.
It’s been a different summer for me. No long holidays away camping or backpacking or kayaking. This was a summer interrupted, a holiday season without long stretches where we could get away. It was a summer spent close to home, enjoying time with overseas visitors, attending weddings, spending time when we could get it with the two oldest boys, both of whom have busy lives.
It was a good summer. Just different. We’re in a different season.
I’ve been thinking about those seasons as I put the finishing touches on my book, An Alphabet of Men: Dating my way from Adam to Zak. Married for more than two years now, I feel as though my years as a single mom in her forties were a long time ago.
But the stories about my adventures in online dating demanded to be written. Every time I put the stories away, deciding they were too self-indulgent, somebody else would ask when I was going to write that book. They wanted to know how I did it, how I got through that period in my life with my sanity and my sense of humour intact.
So I wrote the book. And revised it. Sent it out to beta readers. Sent it off to an amazing editor. Spent another six months rewriting and revising entire sections.
And finally, it’s finished!
I’m ready for this next season, for fall to arrive and for me to turn my creative energies toward getting this book out into the world.