We were in the Poconos recently on a family trip. Rain was threatening, and thunder rolled across the lake. My son and I sat on the balcony of our hotel room, casually chatting, while the thunder got louder and the rain poured down and lightning flashed around us. A strange crackling, crashing sound startled us; we guessed lightning had hit a tree somewhere around the lake. Sirens blared, warning people about the lightning. And we kept sitting there, talking, determined to enjoy ourselves, despite the chaos and the danger.

If that doesn’t feel like a metaphor for this entire year—and maybe the past few years—I don’t know what does.

Awful things keep happening, in the country and in the world, but so do high school graduations and family trips. Life just keeps going. You acknowledge the danger, you try and keep your loved ones safe. But you also enjoy the lakeside view, if you’re lucky enough to have one. Even in the rain.

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My group’s first-ever Pride event in town was a success, I’m happy to report, and we’re already planning next year’s event.

After a whole string of stories getting shortlisted but then ultimately rejected, I have two short stories set to be published soon! I’ll post the links as soon as they’re up. One I wrote years ago, pulled out and revised recently, then sent off to see what would happen, and I’m so glad to find it a home.

In the meantime, I’m working on this fantasy novel (including in the car, to and from the Poconos). I’m still figuring out how the different elements fit together and how the main characters feel about each other, but I’ll have a better sense of all that by the end. And then the real work begins.

Hoping for hopeful things this summer. Stay safe, keep creating.

Sometimes I think it’s the pen. My favorite for a while was a white pen that said Walt Disney Resorts on it in gold. The pen always wrote smoothly. I’d never run out of words. (It was probably just a white Bic pen in fancy clothes, but I liked to pretend otherwise.)

Sometimes I think it’s the notebook. Smaller is better for road trips. Larger is better for home. A soft cover is great; decorated leather is perfect. Notebooks that are pleasant to look at must also be easier to write in.

Sometimes it’s the time of day, or the amount of doomscrolling I’ve done, or whether I’ve slept enough. But really, I know none of that matters. Magical thinking is fun to indulge in—especially when you’re writing about magic—but it won’t get the story finished. The only thing that does is showing up, day by day, and putting words down. The writing is what matters.

I’ve been batting around this dybbuk novel, trying to figure out the balance of horror and humor, trying to figure out how to play the inevitable scene where I explain Jewish folklore for readers who might not know it. Some days I know what I’m writing next; other days I scowl at the notebook for a while. But that’s the process, and I’ll keep at it.

And frankly, it beats doomscrolling.

Hoping for good things for you this week.