When I set out to learn about my mother's bridge club, the Jewish octogenarians behind the matching outfits and accessories, I never expected to fall in love with them. This is the story of the ladies, their game, their gen, and the ragged path that led me back to my mother.
I’m going on vacation tomorrow, which means I’m going upstairs to my home office, lashing myself to the desk for seven days, and hoping that I win. It’s a death match, this writing business. It’s you against the beast. I don’t have any spiritual feeling about the work. I hate the words process and journey. I don’t send postcards. To me, it’s work. I don’t plan on learning anything new about myself or growing. I just want to go in punching and be the last man standing. Love you and leave you, fellow nut balls. Hope to see you next week.
What’s your idea of a vacation?
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Betsy Lerner 
“What’s your idea of a vacation?”
Anywhere I am that has no internet or phone service.
If I had any sense, I’d just turn those off most of the time, and spend almost all of my life on vacation.
Battle that beast, Betsy, and return in one or more pieces to tell us the tale.
“What’s your idea of a vacation?”
a) Not having to do anything or be anywhere having to do with the making of money;
b) Hanging out on or near the sofa and reading and dozing until I feel like I’ve finally gotten enough sleep (experience, limited but cherished in memory, indicates this takes several days); and
c) Oh, who gives a fuck — those first two will do.
backwaters, back roads, and backwoods. Local color, like a beer and bait shack with log benches, and people with stories. Steinbeck mentioned “vacilando”, and that nails it.
Them there are the words of a writer.
Haven’t dared to even consider such a notion since 2009. That summer, an employee waited until I was overseas (on a remote island, no less) to skip town with her cocaine-addled boyfriend and the files for an important project. Almost ruined my company.
Hope your week away, though, brings you all you want. Enjoy!
Sleeping past 5am in a bed other than my own.
My interpretation of that is different than yours. 🙂
Huh, I knew you’d get it.
Actually…a bed other than my own WITH my husband 🙂
My idea of a vacation is taking the WIP to the mountains. There it can coax me into writing gloriously (in my mind anyway) as I take in the blue ridges and smoky hillsides.
The New Year for me starts Sept. 1st so vacation for me is approaching and it involves indulgence & excess: lobster, fried clams, greek food, pizza, too much sun, not much sun screen, deep ocean swims, bottles of Whispering Angel, words in a spiral Mead notebook that’s messy from food & water. I basically annihilate myself. Can’t wait.
Enjoy yourself, Betsy. We miss you.
Laying on the beach in Cabo San Lucas and working on my book, part of the time.
Betsy have a good one. Lord knows you deserve it.
When I was young and still had dreams I would stay for a week in my house share in Hamptons and finish my novel. Thousands of pages written this way. Now I go thru my bucket list and pick the site that will require fewest trips thru security. I will miss your posts.
Ideal? Scotch old enough to vote, ink, paper, fire, and red meat.