August 10, 2026

This post is going to ramble.

If you’ve talked to me since the middle of May, there are strong odds that I’ve mentioned “The Feelings Box” where I’ve been shoving many emotional experiences to get them out of the way so that I could keep to important “get stuff done” schedules. I try to pause and feel my feelings when they show up, but this summer there are So. Many. Feelings. And they’re all entangled. And my schedule has had very little space in it.

So I have this box full of unprocessed experiences, and this ramble is me beginning the process of sorting them.

When I return home from Gen Con there is urgency in getting the van unloaded so that I can return it to the rental place. Everything gets dumped into the front room in a jumble. Over the next week or two I sort things bit-by-bit making decisions about where things get returned to, what items should be discarded, and I find homes for new acquisitions. The process is somewhat complicated by the fact that we will travel again in just two weeks, so some of the things need to be put into the “To Pack” pile instead of being put away. “Just put things away” seems so easy, but each item requires evaluation and decisions. And my brain is exhausted from a summer full of evaluation and decision.

The feelings box is every bit as jumbled and complicated as the physical mess in my front room. More so, because when I pull out a recent acquisition I discover that it has become entangled with something old and deep so that I can’t just pull out the new stuff. Rather like the electrical cord at the top of a bin that disappears into the depths and pulling it loose upturns all the contents.

So, then, a list in somewhat chronological order:

My friend Piper died and I’m working with some people on a memorial project.

My parents had some health scares that have prompted them to start clearing out their house to sell so they can move closer to me and my siblings.

My house had a major electrical fault that required expensive emergency repair. This happened when I was not at home to handle any of it.

My son decided to get his driver’s license while meant me picking up a part time job as a driving instructor for three months. He passed his test right before I left for Gen Con, which was a joy. Having his license has been incredibly helpful since. Some of the feelings in the box are bright / beautiful ones. They’re jumbled in unprocessed with the hard ones.

I’ve been helping clients with crowdfunding.

I’ve been anxious about finances.

We received our shipment of books for Function of Firepower, which should flip the whole house into shipping season, but I was also prepping for Gen Con which is a huge road-trip massive effort.

My sister-in-law has cancer (chemotherapy and then surgery)

My daughter’s father-in-law has cancer. (surgery and then chemotherapy)

A member of my Gen Con family had surgery for possible cancer.

A dear friend had surprise gallbladder surgery.

My daughter called me while I was at Gen Con to tell me that she’d had her baby three weeks early, so I got to bounce between selling at booth, giving presentations, and receiving medical updates about NICU, blood tests, and photos of everyone.

A long time neighbor and friend died and his funeral happened while I was at Gen Con. I was so sad to miss it. His wife (my dear and wonderful friend) died just after I got back, so I was able to attend her viewing and service.

One of my kids’ computers keeps crashing and they need help figuring out why, and I haven’t had time.

My kids stepped up and kept business and house running while I was gone. All of the sketch editions got stamped. All of the packages got shipped.

Schlock readers have really shown up for the Not-a-fire sale we’ve been running since the middle of last month. This is the reason I’ve not been hyperventilating in financial panic.

I took 120 copies of Structuring Life to Support Creativity to Gen Con. I brought home twelve. This is an experience I want to unpack and process. There is joy and awe and hope in it. Also humility and gratitude. I love the moment when someone spots the book on the table, stops, then says “I need this.”

Ahead of me I have Worldcon where I don’t have any programming, but Howard does. We’re also partnering with a friend so books will be available in the vendor hall.

Then Howard and I go on a three day road trip where the only agenda is “See redwood trees while traveling from LA to Seattle.” Because there was a moment in the long Covid aftermaths where Howard was big sad at all the things he couldn’t do anymore and somehow that got attached to the fact that Howard has never seen a redwood in person. So we’re fixing that. (This is definitely going to bring up big feelings from the depths of the box)

Then the Writing Excuses Cruise that will be the last cruise for some time. It is the end of an era, definitely a feelings box moment.

Then I’m home for a week.

Then I take a cargo van and go help my parents clean out my childhood home so that we can sell it. This is going to have a lot of feelings.

Oh, and I have ongoing food and health coping.

So.

There is all of that. And I’m trying to not just keep shoving feelings in the box “to deal with later” because that way leads to feelings explosions when I least expect them. This ramble of a post is an attempt to look inside the box and see what I’ve got in here.

My timer just went off. My work day has to begin now. So I’m putting the lid back on this mess.  This is actually good behavior with a jumbled feelings box. Walk away when things feel over whelming, come back and poke at it when I have capacity. Eventually it gets emptied out and things get sorted into their settled places. My front room is less jumbled than yesterday. Bit by bit the same will happen to the feelings box, as long as I keep coming back to it.