So I bought this new writing pad...
Updated: Jun 22
Not a bunch of lined paper bound together with glue. No, not that kind of pad. This kind of pad:
No, I decided I wanted to write full time. So we're moving out of our expensive little house in the city and moving to the country, to a home I can afford on a writer's pay.
It's a little time capsule, built (we think) in the early 1920s and essentially untouched on the inside. The owner is leaving much of the contents, which includes 1960s Christmas wrapping paper, old radios and typewriters, board games and furniture. All the woodwork is natural, the linoleum on the floor in the kitchen just screams June Cleaver. We are going to have so much fun restoring and making this little writer's pad our own.
Join us on our epic restoration-slash-writer's extravaganza. Can we survive in a little place like this, in the northern wild of Michigan, when we're so used to city life? Will I actually get any writing done? When we reach the seventh month of our winter season, will I hack open the bathroom door with an axe and announce myself Johnny-Carson-style to my terrified husband inside?
I am currently a week from closing on my house, moving up north and embarking on the scariest, most exciting thing I've ever done in my life. Looking forward to sharing the successes and failures with you!