I only intend the title of this blog post to be half-sarcastic.
I've been in Portland, Maine for two weeks now, ostensibly doing research for my second book, which is set here (amazingly, I managed to write an entire first draft without even a basic geographical understanding of the city--woops!). Unfortunately I got slammed with a different editing project immediately after my arrival, so not only has my own work been delayed, I've been watching a series of glorious summer days drift by from the window of a dark coffee shop, where I am imprisoned from 7 a.m. until 8 p.m. every day.
Sigh.
At least today I have time to do my own writing again. It never ceases to amaze me how anxious and unhappy I get when I don't write; it is the single thing that eclipses the feelings of anxiety and unhappiness I have to confront when I *do* write. What a strange and paradoxical profession.
I am including in this post a weekly roundup of the things I am liking this week, Portland-edition:
1. Coffee and toast at Arabica.
2. Friendly strangers, helpful waitstaff, smiling commuters. WTF?? We ain't in NYC anymore, Toto.
3. Dinner at Fore Street. Unreal.
4. Bunking with best friends.
5. Giggling with best friends over absolutely nothing/everything.
6. Running along the bay in glorious sunshine.
7. Long phone conversations with Philadelphia boys.
8. Kambucha cold tea.
9. Seagulls, and the way they drift overhead, seeming to float on currents of air, like a snow. Also, the sound of them: waking up to seagulls calling to each other might just be my favorite way to wake up.
10. The smell of the ocean, of course.
Things I am not liking, Portland-edition:
1. Waking up at 6:30 a.m. to input copyedits into a 210-page book.
2. Never being able to leave the house without running into several people you've recently been introduced to.
3. Having to return to NYC.