The family is planning a week’s stay in Destin, FL, and when I stop and think about what I want, all I see is a beach, a book in my hands, and a pina colada. I want sunshine, booze, a book, and the beach; that’s my writer’s dream vacation.
I could get so much done if I take a book to edit and sit outside, underneath an umbrella. Right now I’m doing my editing in spurts of ten minutes to an hour, and my edits of Gilded Gauntlet are taking a really long time. I could finish the edits, revise, and then have the next draft to work on while sitting on the beach! Oh, the dreams I have…
(insert dreamy sigh here) I’m looking forward to the beach. I’ve not seen the ocean, and it’ll be a nice experience for my steampunk world. It’s set in a port town.I mean, what does it smell like? What does it look like beyond that of pictures of television? What does it feel like? How small does it feel to stand at the edge of the ocean and know that we’ve not yet discovered its deepest depths? What monsters lurk where the sun doesn’t reach and man can’t go?
What’s your dream writer’s vacation? A cabin in the mountains? A studio apartment in the heart of the city? A farmhouse bed and breakfast? A picnic by the lake? A boat ride? Maybe you’d not write at all. Maybe you’d read while you had the uninterrupted time. Or maybe you’d like everyone else to take a vacation and leave you at home; your own space; your own bed; your own toilet; pajamas.
Beatrice B. Morgan 