Envy

I'm supposed to be writing a book. Well, several chapters of a book (it's an Intro text, and I have 7 coauthors). Two of my chapters are due in October, and I promised myself I'd have them done before school begins. One of them is mostly done, but I'm struggling with the other. I'm only about 20% finished with that one, and classes start in a week and a half. I'm not sure what my problem is. My last book I managed to write all by myself in just about a semester. It probably helped that I was pregnant, and so I knew I had an inescapable deadline facing me. And also, that book was really my love child, whereas the current project is a (mostly) fun and interesting project--more like stepchild, to stretch the metaphor.

I regularly read Yarn Harlot's blog, and today she's struggling with her book, too. Still, I'm having trouble empathizing. At least when she takes a break from writing to pursue knitting-related activities, she can convince herself that it's all research for the book. Unfortunately, I can't. And any research I would do for my book would be much, much less fun. Plus, she gets to do book tours and talk about knitting. Me? Boring professor.

Okay, but I promise. Today I will write a bunch of pages on court structure and jurisdiction. Woohoo!