A DAY OF REST

Living in Place

Apr 22, 2026

I was too tired to rub two words together before I realized what I needed was a day of rest.

The marketing side of being a writer. . .

I’d been working non-stop on the marketing side of being a writer: pitching, negotiating, and scheduling speaking events for both Reviving Artemis and Into the Wilderness.

It’s a job that’s never finished. There’s always more to do, so I work until my brain blurs, then eat dinner, sleep badly, and pick up where I left off the next morning.

It’s not supposed to be this way. I always intend to write fiction first thing—and sometimes I do—but mostly I become obsessive about crossing items off my task list. But as soon as I secure one opportunity, I discover another.

Not all my marketing efforts occur at my desk. On Saturday, I attended the New England Outdoor Writers Association annual meeting. It was great to meet people in real life—especially writers I’ve corresponded and spoken with, the college students awarded NEOWA scholarships toward careers in natural resources, and the Field Operations Officer for Backcountry Hunters & Anglers about their nationwide advocacy to protect and conserve public lands.

Sunday was cold and rainy. I worked from before breakfast until a late lunch before taking an hour off to weed and transplant the rhubarb. Rhubarb emerging from the earth is always a hopeful sign of spring. Dirty and cold, I returned to my desk, ticking tasks off my list.

Monday, work was the same.

Three weeks into April: what I needed was a day of rest.

I thought Tuesday would be, too. But I’d barely got the wood stove fired up when I ground to a halt. I was three weeks into April and hadn’t taken a full day off all month. I’d also drifted far away from the novel I’m writing. What I needed was something completely different. What I needed was a day of rest.

Crafting, listening to a story, allowing my mind to freewheel. And Sleep.

I closed the door on the word shop, downloaded the audio of A Man Named Ove, and opened my sewing machine. Three years ago, I started turning feed bags into totes and giving them as gifts. For the next two years, I just thought about it, but never made time. Until yesterday. In one afternoon, I made three.