Jennifer Shaw

I’m drafting this on Thursday, June 5th, and the high today in our little Northeast Kingdom village is 86 F. Yesterday, it was 88.

That might not sound terrible, but for us, it’s pretty hot. Especially because few places here have centralized AC, and all the recent rain has made the air humid. The windows in our farmhouse are open and the fans are going. That helps, but it’s clear summer’s arriving.

That’s another tough thing about our northern Vermont weather. All the way through April, we have the possibility of snow, plus temps that still dip below freezing. True spring, with its ideal days in the 60-70s, doesn’t arrive until mid-May, and by early June, we’re into our summer temperatures.

Like foliage season, true spring is gorgeous but fleeting.

There’s no use lamenting the inevitable, though, so I’ll just keep appreciating the verdant hues outside my window.

This week, hubby Jer and I got outside for some seasonal prep. On Tuesday, we took a deep breath and then proceeded to pull up all the weeds choking the garden beds.

That always sounds like an awful chore, but once we’re in the flow, it’s always faster and more pleasant than we thought. It was cooler that day, too, and I was struck again by the beauty of our property. The work also cleared my head and gave me that satisfaction of time well-spent out of doors, laboring at something vital, under the sun.

There’s nothing more basic, in the best sense of that word, than the labor that goes into cultivating your own food. It’s what humans initially evolved to do, and it speaks to something deep inside us that’s often forgotten or neglected.

Soon, we will plant our fruit and veggie sprouts: strawberries, Roma tomatoes, lettuce, celery, peppers, squash, and more herbs (the thyme and oregano survived the winter and look good), plus the carrot and corn seeds. We’re going to make sure we till the ground around the raised beds, too, so we get pumpkins this year. I’d also like to start a little tea garden, growing chamomile, mint, and lemon balm.

Despite being a little sore from the gardening, on Wednesday I put my Carhart overalls back on and deep cleaned our chicken coop.

Since we use the deep litter method, I only do it twice a year, once in late fall and once in late spring, and that too has gotten faster and easier. I swept out all the old shavings, dumped them in our compost bed, shop-vacuumed out any remaining bits, sanded the roost bar to remove any droppings, then gave the floor a light wash with water and a few drops of Dawn before letting it air dry. Lastly, I put a ton of fresh shavings down, and the coop was, once again, “so fresh and so clean, clean.” This ensures a happy, healthy home for our feathered girls–and, eventually, a lot of nice compost for our garden.

I’m glad we finished these big chores while Daphne’s still in school. Her summer vacation starts next week, on Friday the 13th (I will not think about how inauspicious that sounds). It can be hard to accomplish a major household task when she’s home because she still requires a lot of supervision for her safety (she sometimes tries to eat and drink things she shouldn’t), and she gets moody when she goes too long without undivided attention.

Once she’s off–very soon, eek!–it will take a couple of weeks to adjust to a summer routine that’s good for her and bearable for us, her parents. It’s hard on Jer because she can be noisy. He works remotely, and her squeals and cries can make facilitating meetings tricky, adding yet another stressor to his daily grind.

I struggle a bit because I lose all my reading and writing time during the day. Initially, I go through a kind of withdrawal. Caring for her can be tedious on the best days and frustrating or exhausting on the hardest, and I crave the stimulation and escape my work gives me. The solution for that, however, is to get my butt up earlier than usual. If I can wake up first and enjoy my coffee with a book or article while the house is quiet, I’m centered and more energized for the day. I’m already a morning person, and if I’ve had a dose of reading and reflection, then I’m usually ready to enjoy my kiddo (at least while she’s in a good mood).

Jer is great about helping me entertain Daph. He plays with her when he can on the weekdays, and he’s already made this year’s summer adventures checklist, coming up with enough special activities so there’s about one a week.

Now that I’ve been writing seriously for a couple years, I have a better idea how to space out my projects to account for Daph’s summer time at home. That’s actually a good segue way for sharing my 2025 writing goals.

In January, I wrote them down: Finish the zero draft of my first novel, submit three short pieces for publication, then write another zero draft of another novel. That first zero draft is done, and I have two pieces submitted plus edits basically done on the third, so all I’ll need to do for that one is start submitting it places.

That just leaves the second novel, but I don’t have a lot of specific ideas for it yet. That makes this summer, however, perfect for planning. I’m going to take a break from composing to focus on prewriting for that second novel; I should be able to do that in the mornings, evenings, and in pockets of downtime on the weekends. Then, when Daph goes back to school in September, I will begin that final project, and I should be able to have a roughly 80k zero draft done by the end of December. That feels doable, given my time and writing habits.

That draft will probably be garbage, but that’s not the point. The point is to practice longform fiction so that one day, I can write a novel that isn’t garbage. That’s my ultimate goal.

I also want to squeeze in more reading this summer.

Shifting the emphasis from writing to reading is an essential way to give my brain a break and let it soak up the crafts of much more experienced and better writers. That will help me continue to grow.

My writing group’s June newsletter had a great idea for staying on track with goals during the summer, since it’s a busier season for many of us. They suggested designing your own at-home writing retreat, which I thought was fabulous. Here are their tips:

1. Set your intention: what do you want to accomplish? Getting words on the page? Editing? Planning? A combo of everything? What do you want the energy to be? Serious or more easy-going?
2. Design your schedule: In their words, “a one-day deep dive? A weekend retreat? One writing-focused day per week?”
3. Create your space: Set up a “corner” (or your office) in a way that “feels intentional.” This might mean lighting a candle, setting up near a sunny window or somewhere outside, or closing a door and adding a “Do Not Disturb” sign.
4. Plan your writing sessions: block your time with goals or an agenda, and include little inspirational breaks/activities.
5. Add a little magic: Allow yourself “to do something you never let yourself do.” For example, a slow breakfast in bed with your journal, or a celebratory cock/mocktail to toast your day. I always have a weekend drink, but if I plan a mini-retreat during the week, I’ll definitely end it with a crisp glass of white wine or a nice, hoppy craft beer.

Maybe, when our folks visit in August for my husband’s 50th birthday and can help with Daphne, I’ll plan my own one day deep-dive retreat, with an emphasis on novel-planning and reflections from The Story Grid: What Good Editors Know by Shawn Coyne, which I plan to read this month. I keep hearing what an amazing, obligatory craft book it is.

That’s basically it–our summer plans, in development. Hopefully, things go as expected.

On that note, please send good thoughts our way for Jer. He’s struggling with acute upper abdominal pain and will need an ultrasound soon. The doctors think it’s gallstones, and he’ll probably need to have his gallbladder out. Hopefully, that goes smoothly and we’ll be able to proceed with a pleasant, healthy summer.

The big, and unexpected, home improvement project we thought would take months–getting a new leach field–is actually all done. Yay!

We got a good deal from a local engineer and his retired father, who is up from Florida for the summer and was happy to construct the field for us. We shouldn’t–knock on wood–have any more plumbing issues for a while.

Ugh. Old house problems.

On a final, happier note: the submission gods did indeed look kindly on my latest piece, “Elspeth and the Fairy.” It was accepted for The Red Herrings Society’s fantasy-themed anthology, Spellbound, which will be published in September.

I’m thrilled because this year, reading committees made up of authors, agents, and editors are scoring each submission for each anthology (there are three total), and the top-scoring submissions are being accepted for limited spots. I’m quite proud mine scored high enough to be included, and I’m looking forward to improving it via developmental and line edits from Mary and CJ, who are professional editors and book coaches. Edits are truly the best way to learn, and “Elspeth” was a wonderfully impromptu, inspired labor of love, so I’m delighted it will receive this treatment.

How are things in your neck of the woods? Not too hot, I hope. I’d love to hear about your summer plans, bookish or otherwise.

See you next week!

XOXO,

Jenn