I can tell because my brain is still spinning, spinning, spinning. It keeps trying to remember what we're supposed to be doing now, and it won't believe me that, other than Boskone and a couple of nonfiction articles, the decks really are perfectly clear until March.
Better than clear, in fact. I've got half a book done when I didn't plan to have any yet; I have an idea for the novella I need to write; and I have a draft of All the Windwracked Stars. Which needs rewritten from the bottom up, but the plot is done, and for me, the plot is the hard part.
Charlie Stross has a great and much-linked post up here on what is necessitated by the !glamourous writing life. Oh, God, taxes. He had to remind me....
He left out the feast-or-famine nature of the pay schedule, too. Other people save up for major purchases. Writers buy them quick when the money comes in. And then, in the bleak time between the signing of the contract and the paying of the check, they eat a lot of pasta.
Also, what he says about the work schedule? Seriously. I work more than 250 days a year (I probably take about thirty non-writing days in an average year, but I grew up in the kind of working class family where OT and second jobs was how you made ends meet: I'm bred to scorn a banker's schedule.) Which is why I don't feel too bad sitting here reading Holly Black and letting the story cook, even when I would really like to be done with the first draft of the book by April 1.
You get used to running on that treadmill, man. But the fact of the matter is, if I killed myself to get everything I have to do in 2007 done by August (And I could, though I'd probably give myself another psoriasis outbreak and completely sacrifice my exercise schedule and social life) then I'd have no bloody clue what to do with myself for the last five months of the year. And the last thing I need is another spare trunk novel and an incipient case of burnout.
Yeah, I know Piers Anthony works eight hours every day and twelve on Sundays, but I have my limits. And I get whoooaaa obsessed enough about finishing things that it doesn't hurt to stop every once in a while and remind myself that the book does not actually have to be done next week.
ETA: Oh, yeah, since Sarah did it--
Con schedule for this year is looking like:
And I may stop by a little regional con or two. Really, that's two more cons than I should be going to, but it's two less than last year, and its hard to give up the ones that are habit.
(Yes, I need to update my web page, but I need to take the whole thing apart and put it together different first, and... it's a low priority right now.)