For the past week, I’ve been mulling an offer to write another book (“Intro to Python Programming” for Penguin Press). It’s been more than a decade since my last book, and I’d really enjoy the opportunity, but am trying to get better about saying “no” to things, stop pushing myself so hard all the time, and to start having “margins of life” to enjoy like normal folk.
After a lot of thought, I just politely declined; can’t face the prospect of six months of deadlines and lost weekends. At one point, an offer like this would have seemed like part of living a juicy life; now it feels like just another thing that distracts from it. Hoping it was the right decision.