I had decided to do my own version of NaNoWriMo this month, and was blissfully working on my super-secret WIP, when a Baker's cyst ruptured behind my knee. I never knew what a Baker's cyst was, muchless knew I had one. Unfortunately, I have been on crutches for almost two weeks now.
The upside of all this is that the only thing I can really do while sitting with my leg elevated is read and write. No chores. No cooking. No errands. No anything, really. I have pretty much been a shut-in, except for one doctor visit and my son's orchestra concert, for which I was going to drag my sorry ass out no matter what. He had a solo, and I was determined to see it. (He killed it, by the way. His father and I are very proud.)
Although I won't make my initial deadline of a solid first draft before Thanksgiving, I do have 20,000 more words than I did before the rupture, so I'm happy with that. I have also been writing every day, as best as I can, which is a wonderful way to convalesce.
I have read two books thus far and am halfway through another. The Beginner's Goodbye, by Anne Tyler, was a lovely, quiet novel about a middle-aged man coming to terms with the death of his wife after a tree strikes their house. I really enjoyed Neil Gaiman's The Ocean at the End of the Lane, a magical, mythical spellbinding tale of an incident one summer in a young boy's life. It had the same feel as The Graveyard Book, another Gaiman novel I just loved. It was truly a treat to witness such great writing from both of these amazing authors. Now, I'm onto The Mezzanine, a quirky little piece about the daily minutia of corporate life, by Nicholson Baker.
Hopefully, I will be off crutches on Monday. We shall see. In the meantime, I'll keep working on my living room chair, in my make-shift writing station, and figure out Thanksgiving dinner menu options, secure in the knowledge this year's feast will be lovingly cooked by Whole Foods instead of me.
You know, somehow, that doesn't sound half bad, does it?