Laboring on Labor Day

As I labored in the garden today, dragging around a 20 pound hedge trimmer and an extension cord that got stuck on every tree limb and fence post surrounding the perimeter of our yard, I wondered just what it is that keeps me from relaxing.  Somewhere along the line, I became the kind of person who feels guilty about taking it easy.  It is, after all, Labor Day.  I would rather be celebrating the end of summer curled up in a chair reading, or working on my latest writing project.  A big thanks goes out to the ten or twelve mosquitos who finally helped encourage me indoors.

Now, I know I'm behind on this, but I am just getting around to reading Neil Gaiman's, THE GRAVEYARD BOOK, and I am crazy about it.  How brilliant is this man?  I can't put it down.  Today I found myself reading it while I was drying my hair in the bathroom.

I know I'm hooked when I find myself juggling a hairdryer and attempting to weight down the sides of a book with brushes.

Gaiman has a gift for making the macabre charming. The main character, Nobody Owens, has the remarkable misfortune of growing up in a graveyard, but still, he manages to seem like every boy.  "Bod's" friends may be ghosts and witches, but his voice is completely authentic.

Nothing inspires writing for me more than a great story like Bod's.  I eventually put down THE GRAVEYARD BOOK long enough to get quite a bit of writing done this afternoon.

Goodbye long, dry summer... please take the yard work and mosquitos with you.  I look forward to jeans, autumn leaves and many, many good books in front of a fire.