The cabin

Life at the cabin is pretty Idyllic. Since Cole and I both work online, we can wake up when we want, and work when we want. Our days are filled with writing and editing, which is pretty fun.

Right now, we're sitting in our respective places. They've become traditional. He's sitting on the long couch directly facing the TV with his feet propped on the coffee table (a faux pas he'd never get away with in my house). I'm lying on the smaller couch perpendicular to his, with a blanket pulled up and my laptop on my lap.

These days are just about perfect, filled with fires in the wood stove and long hours on the laptop. The main drawbacks are these: television, internet, and a nagging doubt about the whole endeavor. We've had to make a rule about no television until after sunset, but that resolution has sometimes been hard to maintain. Equally hard to resist is the alluring appeal of the Web, which sucks us in when, with the best intentions, we sit down to write our scenes. And finally, the doubt. Here we are, new Stanford graduates, and all our friends are off working full time or, you know, going to medical school or something. We'll be typing along happily when the doubt creeps in the backs of our minds, whispering "Hey, guess what? While you're up here brainstorming about Greek gods and editing essays, all your friends are ACTUALLY MAKING A DIFFERENCE! Or, you know, at least holding down real jobs."

And at that point, all we can do is shove the thought back down into a little mental box labeled fragile, listen to some more Christmas carols, and write another scene.