After finishing the rough draft of my new novel, I walked around in a daze for nearly a week. If you’ve ever tried to write a manuscript of any kind, you know what the endgame feels like: obsessive bursts of elation, plummeting depths of despair. I already have a folder on my computer dedicated to my plans for revision–passages I’ll have to unravel, subplots I’ll have to build up. But for now I’m celebrating, because I’ve made my way to the end.

Some people like to celebrate in Vegas. But I’ve been in Bolivia this past month, having adventures and teaching my goddaughter how to knit. She and her sister have learned to cast on, maintain tension, and unravel and rebuild the parts that don’t work. It’s a very particular kind of problem solving, and I like to think that knitting anything of substance is actually a lot like writing a novel. “Extreme marathon knitting” is what William Gibson calls the writing process.

I have some glorious photographs of Bolivia to share: archeological sites, mariachi bands, soccer games, an entire city welcoming the Pope. To whet your appetite, here’s the iconic Gate of the Sun at Tiwanaku, stolen from my Instagram and captured on a snowy day. More photos to come!