By Louise Ure
There are enough bleak times to span the seasons. But then, every now and again, a couple of THESE weeks come along, when all your favorite things happen at once.
Weeks when lots of old friends show up at book signings in Seattle and Los Angeles and San Leandro.
And they buy books. Lots of books.
Weeks when your desk is covered with anthuriums and orchids because your spouse knows the value of a continuing Valentine’s Day celebration.
Weeks when you get to have lunch with one of your favorite people in the whole world. (Mrs. Claus was there, too, although suffering with a mean bronchitis.)
Weeks when your sister arrives for a weekend’s worth of birthday partying (hers, not mine). She gets to request any meal and almost always picks osso buco.
Then we pamper ourselves with pedicures and good red wine.
Weeks when you’re reading a new friend’s manuscript and realizing what a fine, fine writer she is. (Are you listening, Susan?)
Weeks when you treat yourself to a new toy and find it to be even more fun than you ever thought possible.
Weeks when some neighborhood wag leaves this on your door and makes you smile.
So what’s the problem? Anhedonia, I’m guessing, or its little sister "too much input, not enough time for reflection."
Anhedonia, of course, is an inability to appreciate normally pleasurable activities. For me, this week, it’s literary anhedonia. An inability to enjoy a good read (with a couple of exceptions) or write anything worth a damn myself.
And that’s scary. When your go-to source of pleasure dries up and no matter how many other good things in life are happening, all you can think about are the things that aren’t.
The tour is almost done. I have the gorgeous Authors on the Move event in Sacramento to look forward to, then a visit from our own Pari, then Denver for LCC.
Someplace along the way, I hope I can dash this feeling of ennui and dissatisfaction that’s taken root. I need to fall in love with reading and writing again.
Tell me, my ‘Rati brethren, what makes a great week for you? And any suggestions for this too-long string of days when the pleasure of reading and writing has abandoned me?