Write Stressed; Edit Naked

Every time I write a book, I have this fantasy where I drive to an unfamiliar city, check into a motel and write undisturbed for an entire week. Just blast it all out like you do after a Sunday brunch in Tijuana.

But I’ll never do this, even though my truck keys are in my right pocket, my laptop is charged and the kids are grown. That’s because whenever I disconnect from daily life at the bench, surrounded by the people who make me crazy and happy, my writing flatlines.

My best typey-typey and furniture designs are a response to stress and strain, emotional ups and downs, IPAs and some boxed red wine.

After a particularly long-ass day this week, Lucy, Megan and I crawled to Larry’s, our local dive, for a tater-tot-based dinner and a beer. The only thing I had to show for my day was an engraving of a frog I’d made that was based on a Latvian textile. Every other minute of the day had been misery – dealing with inventory, suppliers and the backend of our web store.

After Megan and Lucy look…