2020 and 2021, ugh

So, 2020 huh? And then 2021…

Well, I’m okay. And I hope you’re doing okay, too. And if not, here’s a virtual hug.

Let’s give ourselves a break, y’all.

Where’s my next book, you ask?

I finished doing another major edit on GERMLINE FOUR, my next young adult science fiction that I started writing back in 2017 after CONTRIBUTE was published (has it been that long?) And of course, it starts with four teens getting rounded up and quarantined against their will. It was written before the pandemic and has nothing to do with Covid, and yet there were some glaring parallels that hit me in my gut during each edit.

Not to mention as a high school teacher, the pandemic wiped me out so much I’m not going to rehash it here. Just another big virtual hug to any teacher out there.

Unfortunately, my mother died in June 2020 at age 64 (not Covid-related). Her lung collapsed, and then she was diagnosed with terminal small cell lung cancer. Cigarettes kill, and they can kill suddenly, without prior symptoms. I’m still more angry than anything else, to be honest.

I digress. Forgive me.

So I was editing scenes in GERMLINE FOUR about four teens in a government quarantine facility while the real world was in quarantine, while I was teaching teens in quarantine, and I was grieving the loss of my mother. Talk about surreal. Sometimes reality is stranger than fiction.

It’s been hard. I don’t need to tell you that.

One thing that really helped me during the time was to slow down and enjoy the rituals and structure in my life. I was never a traditionalist, but during grief I realized how comforting ritual moments can be.

Brewing coffee each morning. Lighting candles. Decorating a tree. Baking a birthday cake. Watering plants. Reading a book. Ordering takeout. Feeding my cats. Folding warm laundry. Walking to the beach. Dancing in the kitchen. Playing cards. Weeding my garden. Returning to the page. Saying good night.

Taken one at a time, they are small moments, some even insignificant. Taken together, they make up a life that I love.

I hope you take the time to celebrate all the small things you love about your life.

Life is so short.

Take it one ritual at a time.

Breathe.

Thanks for reading. I hope to have good publishing news soon. Fingers crossed!

Kristy Acevedo author