February blahs?

I used to hate February, would always find myself worn down by winter with the final aching cold of February. Moving to the country helped me to come to terms with winter. I took up snowshoeing, cross-country skiing and eventually hockey. Winter almost became my favourite season. But this year, no snow kept me off the trails and a knee injury kept me off the ice. More time for writing.

Also, February 10^th is my anniversary and we try and do something to mark the occasion. This year was dinner and a play. Then I was back to work for a few days before getting a way for a writing retreat with my local writing friends. It was close by, so not a lot of time was wasted in travel. We stayed at a refinished school house with lots of space to gather for meals and discussion, and space to find a spot to write alone.

I’d been there before to write and it’s a great way to keep your bum in the chair. There’s nothing else to do! There’s no nagging list of all the things that have to be done at home. And it’s February, no great call to be in the wild. All there is to do is write. Or talk about writing.

Others stayed for a whole week, but I had to get back. We were picking up my daughter from university for her week off, which just happened to be close to our favourite vegan Asian restaurant and it happened to be my husband’s birthday. Dinner and home. I hadn’t left the province, but I’d felt like I’d had a mini-vacation, a breakaway from the every day.

And just like that, it’s March. Where did February go? I’m working on a final edit of my novel that everyone says, has potential. If only I could make it better. I’m finding it really hard to rethink it even though I’ve done it many times. But now I’m finding it difficult to imagine it in a completely different way. And I’m asking myself, is it just time to move on? Take the lessons learned from the first novel and get it right for the second novel? Or, is it worth one more try?