|Thanks to Carol Moore of The Water-blog for the photo|
|The Causeway view this a.m.|
The waves were rollicking and the current strong against us, but the water was crystal clear, a cool 71 degrees, and 100% jelly free!
After a rigorous 1/2 hour swim out less-far than we intended, we turned around and swam back for another 45 minutes, assisted by a helpful current, but stopping often to work on some new swim techniques (as well as lamely* attempt some butterfly).
*Okay, if you want to see me butterflying badly, you'll have to go to the Water-blog link and click on the video. Can't get it to embed here. And the lame applies only to me. Carole's butterfly (first in the yellow cap) was quite good, actually.
Once back to our home base of the lifeguard station, we were reluctant to get out of the vast, sparkling expanse we had all to ourselves, so instead, we stripped off our wetsuits and snorkled around in the shallow waters as if we were in the Carribean. When we finally tore ourselves from the water, we all agreed that September is, hands down, the best month for an open-water swim.
Back home, buoyed by endorphins (and some coffee), I set about responding to emails, including one from my editor, equally thrilled about this terrific review of The Pull of Gravity that came out in yesterday's YALSA (Young Adult Library Services Association) newsletter, The Hub. Here's the lead-in sentence because, well, because I can:
"I cannot NOT mention this title. It’s a smaller YA book, clocking in at only 202 pages but wow, it packs a punch."
Yep, that's me and TPoG, absolutely punchy! ;)
That was followed by a phone call from a local independent bookstore owner (The Dolphin Bookshop in Pt. Washington) who had "finally" read TPoG and called to tell me how extraordinary she thought it was (she had even bought a copy of it together with Of Mice and Men for her nephew's birthday (er, hope she got him a video game and some cold hard cash too?!), and that she was approaching the local schools to tell them that they need to get on reading it.
Seriously, people, a phone call like that is (insecure) writer's gold.
Spent the rest of the sunny day writing, returning phones calls, booking a veritable slew of fall events (a/k/a five), and basking in the glow of the swim endorphins, grateful for the small highs -- those wonderful giddy things -- that keep you going.