I’m working on the last chapter of my book. I should be done with it in a couple of weeks. Everything I’ve written is in rough draft, so there’s tons still to do. Nevertheless, it has me thinking about what it would be like to wake up and not be writing a book.

I’ve been mildly obsessive about working on this book for the past 3 years or so, and more so in the past ten months of actual writing. I think of almost nothing else. It is a rich problem set and an interesting writing challenge. I feel privileged to be allowed to think about this stuff. Nevertheless, I do find moments of fear breaking through my usual baseline anxiety: What will I do when I’m not working on this book?

I’m jinxing myself even by talking this way in public. The book isn’t done. Must finish book. Must…finish…book… [Tags: everything_is_miscellaneous]

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