The days are much too short and it doesn't have much to do with it being autumn.
Between the newsletter, wonderful guests, getting Murder in Insel Poel ready for my publisher (where did all those typos come from and shouldn't that paragraph be tightened, that sentence polished a bit more?) the days seem about an hour long.
I am thinking ahead to the next book. We have tickets to go to the UK combining the research trip with Llara's graduation and a bit more moseying around Scotland. I'm itching to start something new.
None of this is a complaint. I wouldn't change my life for anything.
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