Half Dozen Down

yawning and resetting halfway through the year

This might be the most boring summer of my life.

Sounds dramatic, I know, but it really is how I’ve been feeling lately. It’s been a lot of rinse and repeat around here—feed the kids, slather on sunscreen, get outside and do something, read, tv, shower off the sweaty day, crawl into bed. Repeat tomorrow. I’m reading more than normal so I guess that’s a plus? Also my front yard tan isn’t half bad. #littlevictories

My husband and I decided this would be our “low-key” summer to just chill around home and the greater Seattle area. No family vacations on our calendar and very few camps or structure of any kind for the kids. We’ve done a lot of travel in recent summers, and have quite a bit coming up this school year, so for now we’re laying low, saving some money and enjoying a quiet summer in Seattle. Which, it turns out, is quite difficult for me.

The thing is, I MISS travel. It is super weird not having a single summer family vacation planned. I told my son this week that my goal is to wear out this pair of sandals I just bought with all the neighborhood walks I’m taking this summer. It’s a sad goal, but it’s what I’m working with right now. It feels a bit like the early pandemic days when my greatest escape was my daily walks. It’s not a feeling I love revisiting, and it’s been such a reminder of how much I thrive on travel —the newness, the adventure, the discovery, the anonymity. Something about being far from home with none of my normal routines or laundry piles surrounding me always helps me to clear my head, refocus, and breathe a little deeper.

File my summer boredom woes under “champagne problems,” I know. I am grateful to have a beautiful home and outdoor space, a charming neighborhood I love, lots of local friends and family to plan things with. It’s just…a bit underwhelming, having such a hyper local summer. I’m not used to it, and this will not be becoming my new summer norm, thank you very much. I’ve been sad not to be hitting the road or the airport or renting some little riverside cabin with my family. I’ve been compensating by doing more solo travel with friends when I can, like last month when I visited my friend Sophie in Ontario. In September I’ll spend a few days in New Mexico with my friend Kym at a writing retreat. I can’t wait. In the meantime…you can find me taking A LOT of walks.

So that’s a little slice of my underwhelming summer here at home. Meanwhile, 2024 is somehow half over(!) and I’ve been taking stock of this year so far. What I’d hoped to accomplish, where I’m at so far, and what I hope the second half of the year will bring (mainly a book deal).

I’ve spent most of the year on submission for my first novel, which basically translates to a lot of waiting. Months and months of waiting. Waiting for editors to read my book. Waiting for them to respond and say things like, “Beth Morris has written an emotionally gripping novel about grief, betrayal, and healing. In the end, I didn't feel the love-at-first-sight spark as I read, so I'm going to step back and cheer you on from the sidelines” (one actual editor response).

Guys, if I had a dollar for each person “cheering me on from the sidelines,” I wouldn’t even need a book advance. Thank you, sideline cheerleaders, but what I’m really looking for is someone who wants to put on some protective gear and get muddy on the field with me. Is that person still out there for book #1? TIME WILL TELL. Publishing will develop your patience muscles like nothing else, friends.

Meanwhile, for the sake of my sanity—I’ve been writing! I wrote about 2/3 of a book this spring. Typing THE END on the last page of the first draft of a new novel was a highlight of my June and a satisfying way to enter the second half of this year. I’m currently enjoying some time off while knowing I’ll be eager to get back to it when the time comes. Time and distance from our work really is important for us writers, I’m being reminded.

I sometimes wonder where I’ll be in my writing endeavors in three months, six months, a year…two years. I know where I want to be, but the fulfillment of my dreams is dependent on people outside of myself, it turns out. The only person I can control is me. I am reminded of the words my friend Gina—also in the slow, agonizing submission trenches with me—often speaks as a mantra: “The only way I can fail is if I give up.” Repeat daily/hourly/as needed.

Not giving up, guys. One thing about me is I’m pretty damn tenacious when I set my mind to something. Maybe my first book will publish. Maybe my second or seventh will. I’m going to keep on writing. This summer might not be my most exciting, but maybe I’m resting up for a fruitful year ahead. One can hope. In the meantime, I’m trying to appreciate the steadiness of the sun, and find ways to feel a little less bored at home.

CURRENTLY READING:

The Guncle Abroad is the closest I’m getting to Europe anytime soon. I got to meet Steven Rowley at a book event in Seattle this spring, and am loving this globetrotting sequel so far. Come for the Lake Como setting, stay for the family dysfunction, wedding drama, pop culture moments, and of course—Rowley’s trademark humor and heart.

I’m also listening to the audiobook for Margo’s Got Money Troubles and it is a delight! This is my first time reading Rufi Thorpe and I’m not bored! Which is very important to me right now (see: “This might be the most boring summer of my life.”). Dive into a world of teen pregnancy, fancy nights out at Appleby’s, a pro wrestler father figure and newfound internet fame via Only Fans to support your kid. What could go wrong?

Hope your summer is bright and not too boring, friends! Thanks for reading!

Xo,

Beth