In Which I Decide … To Return to My Work

Tomorrow, Tuesday 8 March, it will be two weeks since the February 22 earthquake wreaked such havoc on Christchurch. And there's still a truckload to be done, both in the city and right here on the home acre. Yesterday, after spending most of the day working through lists (believe me, these are endless—as fast as you cross one task off, another 10 spring up in its place, not unlike the heads of Hydra) and also packing away books and ornaments (so that I could consequently store away large, likely-to-fall-over items of furniture, ie shelving units) I was exhausted. Ex-haus-ted, dear readers.

Part of that exhaustion, I suspect, was emotional: I felt like a refugee in my own home. It also underlined what I have known in my head from the 22nd—that this really isn't going to be over for a long time. But I also thought:  I still have  a manuscript to edit and two more books to write. That's my job and despite all this other stuff that's crying out to be done, I need to get back to it. Life amongst the ruins perhaps, but we all need to carry on.

I'll undoubtedly still spend a great deal of time with my arm up to my shoulder in water, clearing silt from stormwater traps, plus scraping the last layers of liquefaction sludge off hard surfaces, as well as chasing EQC and insurance companies, builders and drainlayers (me and the rest of the city.) I'll definitely keep bringing you reports from the 'burbs for a while yet, too. But I want to start moving on—and actively returning to work, which in my case is writing, seems like the best place to start.

So that's what I'm doing today. I'm sitting down at my desk, in amongst all those boxes of packed away stuff, and I'm working on the ms for The Gathering of the Lost, The Wall of Night Book Two.

How about you? What are you doing, where you are?