Recently I finished untitled book #6. Not the kind of "finished" where I've sent it to my editor and am anxiously awaiting her reply, but more the kind where I've passed it off to my husband and agent (my favorite first readers) so that I can temporarily wash my hands of it and do a mental cleanse before I start thinking about what's next (which I guess would be untitled book #7). And since I tend to be so obsessive when I'm writing- ignoring the phone, emails, and the world at large-reaching the point when I actually get to type "The End" feels just like the last day of school, with its promise of long leisurely days with no work to do.
So yesterday, I took the day off. And what began as a simple trip to the bank, soon turned into a full fledged field trip. Starting with my husband's comment about what a nice day it was, which immediately sequed into, "We should go to the San Juan Capistrano Mission."
The last time I went to the mission was for a real field trip back in the fourth grade, the kind that required permission slips, a packed lunch, and my mom solemnly swearing to be a cool chaperone, and not act all mom-like in front of my friends. And as my husband and I strolled around Orange County's most famous ancient ruins, I remembered my ten year old self, and how thrilled I'd been to trade the rigors of the classroom for a day of goofing around with my friends. Which also made me realize just how little has changed since then.
And after we'd been fully reacquainted with Father Serra and all his good deeds, my husband and I caught the last matinee of "Little Miss Sunshine," which is quirky, and awesome, and a definite must see.
But even though the sun was shining just as bright today, I didn't even think about playing hooky. Summer is over, and untitled #7 waits.
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