I try not to forget to count my blessings. And one of them–two years in a row, now–has been getting to go out to the Texas Hill Country to stay in the gorgeous country house of one of my mom’s dear friends.
I got to go last year when I was finishing up my third novel, and spent almost a week there writing a good 1/3 of the book in a total and delightful fiction frenzy.
It’s just so unbelievably charming there. And whimsical. And tidy. And scenic. And friendly. And everywhere you look, there’s something beautiful.
I got up in the morning, made coffee, and wrote. It was about as good as it gets.
I wouldn’t trade my real life for anything. But a little writing vacation once in a while is pretty great, too.