Because, okay, that's a euphemism, and you all know it. I'm the one who asked for a little time apart... he agreed, of course, but he does not want this. This is very hard for him. Which I understand utterly, and it's why I waited till I absolutely needed it before I asked for it. I hoped the feeling would settle down, go away, that I'd get back to how I used to be.
Now I'm relishing my time alone--I am someone who has always enjoyed time spent alone, even as I also crave the company of others. It's the balance I need, and I think the balance had gotten so skewed, there was no way to reset it but to step away.
But I'm thinking large questions, in this quiet space that I have now: who am I, really? What do I do next, with my life, my career, my writing--everything? I changed so much about my life to move here, it's like wiping the slate clean. I have things I've always wanted: a house of my own, and time to write. But what else? What happens next? I don't know. I am thinking Big Thoughts.
The writing itself, I'm thinking a lot about that. Hobgoblin is going so well--crossed 90K today, moving right along. I'll probably finish it early in the new year--I might could finish by year-end, but only if I was a totally bad houseguest and insisted on writing when I'm at my folks' for Christmas. Which, maybe I'll be able to sneak out a little writing time, but it won't be a reliable two-plus hours a day, every day, like I'm getting now. And that's fine. When I do finish this draft, I'll put it in the drawer for a month or two and concentrate on short stories. I'm thinking I'd like to try writing a short story a week, whenever I'm not novel-ing. This year I've only made four story sales, three of them collabs. As opposed to eleven in 2009. Now, of course I have every legitimate reason for this to be so--I spent over half the year barely writing at all, what with moving and buying the house and jaylake's chemo and his surgery and Australia/New Zealand etc--but my inventory is low, because I'm not writing new stories, and therefore not selling stories...this is no way to build a career.
So that's my thinking about that. We'll see how it goes.
Speaking of the house! A little updatery here.
People ask me how the house is coming along, if I'm unpacked yet...well: I moved in June, and the painters and contractor finished up a few days later. I had all the boxes unpacked within a week, for some value of "unpacked," that included not enough furniture (i.e. bookcases) to put everything in. Slowly, over time, pieces have been acquired, and all the books have homes. Well, most of them do....I keep buying more. But I've got another bookcase coming, on longterm loan from markferrari, some time in the new year, and that should take care of all that for a while anyway.
Rugs, too: I moved in with some, and gradually added more. I think I'm now done with mandatory rug-buying. Of course there is always room for another gorgeous bargain, should I come across one... but the situation is good now, I'm happy.
Here's what the living room looks like now, view from my desk in the dining room:
I finally realized that if I moved that lamp you see at left to its current position, by the couch, then I don't have to carry it over to the couch every evening to read. Duh! (It used to be over by that bookcase on the right, by the windows.)
I need, or want, some more bits of furniture. Perhaps a loveseat, to go up closer to the front windows. A second guest bed of some kind, for the tiny bedroom upstairs. Maybe stools for the kitchen island, though I'm not sure there's enough space for that. None of this is urgent.
So, the house is "done" but not done-done, if that makes sense. But there will always be more to do. Wallpaper, for example. After my grand experiment a month or so back, I haven't done a thing, besides buy more scraps and samples with H. This leaves me with a situation like this:
Not ideal. I mean, livable, but not ideal.
And the basement leaks, a bit. And if I found a million dollars on the sidewalk I would totally redo the upstairs bathroom. And there is some weirdness about some lighting--switches in odd places, ugly fluorescents in the kitchen, like that. Nothing dangerous, just inconvenient.
And the yard! Don't talk to me about the yard. It's winter. I'll absolutely deal with the yard in the spring. Really. :-)