I just hit send on edits for my fifth Gethsemane Brown novel, Execution in E. Just, as in forty-five minutes before I sat down to write this post. (Which is why it’s late and why it may ramble.) Right now, I’m at that stage in an author’s life when I’m relieved that I finally—finally—don’t have a manuscript deadline hanging over my head (oh, sweet freedom) and where I kind of hate writing stories and never want to write again.
Of course, that’s hyperbole. I don’t hate writing, I love it. I’m amazed when a random idea stirs thoughts that my brain translates into words and puts them together in some order that makes sense not only to me but to others. But writing is hard work, mentally and (according to my eyes, wrists, back, and neck) physically exhausting. After I finish a manuscript, I need a break before jumping into the next writing project. But what kind of break?
I don’t want to do nothing. There’s too much risk of never going back to doing something. Doing nothing is my default setting because it’s so easy. I could whittle my TBR pile. Get lost in the rabbit hole (or black hole) of social media. Catch up on long-neglected emails. (Apologies to everyone I’ve ignored. Blame the edits.) But, at least for a few days, I need to take a break that doesn’t involve words. I need to exercise the visual part of my brain, the part that’s been pushed to the back of the shelf during these months while I’ve been editing my book. And, no, exercise is not a synonym for bingewatch.
I’ve decided to participate in The Sketchbook Project, sponsored by The Brooklyn Art Library. The Sketchbook Project and its companion, The Tiny Sketchbook Project, are physical collections of more than 40,000 artist sketchbooks housed at the Brooklyn Art Library in Brooklyn, New York. To participate, you buy a blank, kraft paper-covered, 5x7” and/or 2.33x1.66” notebook, register the book’s unique barcode with the library, fill the pages and decorate the covers of your book, mail the book back to the library by the deadline (each volume of the Project has a deadline—there’s no escaping them!), eh, voila!—You’re in the permanent collection. The library sends a list of suggested themes for each volume but you don’t have to stick to them. You can Instagram your progress (natch), using hashtag #sbpprogress, and you can opt (for an additional fee) to have your finished sketchbook digitized for the library’s online archive.
I’m going to challenge myself to explore visual arts while I take a break from the literary arts. Then, it’s time to jump into book six.
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