First some news: my book is done. As in, it’s been sent to the printers, and I cannot change anything anymore. It’s done, and you can pre-order it now!

When everyone asks, I have the same answer: I’m feeling excited and terrified. It’s real, and pretty soon, everyone will be able to read it. That’s where the anxiety comes in. I didn’t understand, even as someone with an anxiety diagnosis, just how all-encompassing it would feel.

I’m also feeling stuck. Now that the book is done, I don’t know what to do next. I know I should write another book, but what should that book be about? I drew a big Venn diagram in my morning pages the other day: Book #1 + Book #2 = that elusive middle ground.

You might’ve noticed that I stopped writing for a couple weeks. I’ve only just started morning pages again. I wrote a newsletter last week, got as far as drafting it on the website, and then I couldn’t send it. Every time I try to write you, all I read in the words is my depression.

I’m feeling stuck in my house. I never leave except to go to work, and because it’s summer, I’m only teaching three days a week. I know I should go to the beach while the sun is shining, but I can’t make myself get out of bed.

I’m feeling stuck in this city. It’s so small and so far away from Vancouver, where—still!—everything happens. This suburb hasn’t been kind to me, and I’m lonelier than ever.

A change has to come.

This past Sunday, I tweeted that I was going to make a zine, and then I made it. I did it live on camera, just to make sure. You can watch the replay.

This is the 7th zine I’ve made live this year. (You can download all of them here.) In January, the plan was I’d make one a week. By February, I had revised to every two weeks. By March, I had stopped all together, and the guilt was crushing. But I think I’ve finally learned what works for me. It’s not schedules or routines. It’s rhythms.

I will want to make another zine soon. I’ll want to write another book. It’ll come, and I have to trust it will because it always does. I will always write—I just don’t do well with schedules. You might notice I’m sending you this letter on Tuesday. That’s because I sat down this morning, and I wrote. It just happened.

I don’t know when the next letter will happen, but you can trust it will. I love to hear from you, so please, tell me about what you’ve been up to! (Ooh, maybe I’ll put together a letter that’s just sharing everyone’s work!)

Until next time, whenever that is,