How quickly it changes

Last week, I had a nice week of leisurely going through my slush, requesting full manuscripts from some authors, reading said manuscripts, meaning to reorganize my files (but not really), getting some authors started on projects for me, and so forth. In other words, all the things I’ve meant to do, but haven’t had time because I’ve had deadlines looming.
Now, back to the grindstone–I got a draft in that needs a quick turnaround, so I’m dropping everything for that. Which is wonderful, don’t get me wrong. It’s a good book. But I’m back to looking at those stacks of paper longingly, hoping that someday I’ll have the time to sort it all out some more. Perhaps longingly isn’t a good word. With frustration might be a better phrase, because those stacks of paper are taking up space on my desk that makes me glad most people don’t know where I sit. I don’t get a lot of traffic back there, but when I do give tours, the last stop is my desk, and I cringe to show how disheveled my desk has gotten recently. But that’s a sign of a busy mind, as the placard above my grandpa’s desk always said. The rest of t
he placard read something about how an empty desk is the sign of an empty mind. My mind is very, very full, Grandpa!