I've been trying to work. Really, I have.
I open the file for Early Grave and I go to where I last stopped reading. (I'm reading the 130 pages I already have written so I can get a sense of where to pick up the writing again.) I read through for a while until my brain hurts from all the flaws (it's very first drafty) and then I wander off. I'm on pg70 now, but I started doing this like two weeks ago, so you see how that's going.
About a week ago, I sent Natural Causes to my Kindle so I could start editing that. And there my Kindle sat on the table where it charges. Yesterday, I took my Kindle and a notebook into the living room to maybe prod me into getting my ass to work. Cuz, like, it's taking up half my end table and I have to keep moving it to access the Kleenex. Nope.
At the beginning of the month, I read through what I have written on Wish Hits the Fan, got to the end of that, and realized I have no idea where I'm supposed to go next. I think about it when I'm driving, and sometimes when I'm trying to sleep, but I still can't see my way through.
Sometime in mid-Autumn, I thought it might be a good idea to work on rewriting Fear Itself. I'm 66 pgs in on that. But I haven't been able to muster the urge to sit my ass down and work through this.
So, I began pondering the idea of going back to something completely different. I have that modern day Arthurian thing I was working on. I was really excited about that. Or Sleeping Ugly. That was a lot of fun. But I can't get excited about those either. Nothing's blowing my skirt up*.
Not sure what the answer is here. Not sure what the problem is either, so that's probably why I can't find the answer. I don't feel burned out. Maybe it's a combination of things that I won't bring up here because who needs to listen to me piss and moan. (As if this whole post isn't akin to a PAM session.)
Anyhoo... I hope this explains a little why I haven't published anything since September and I don't have anything on a publication schedule and why you haven't seen a newsletter in forever. I'm stalled. I'd like to be writing. I'd love to have something to offer you that isn't a half-formed blob of primordial goo. But I don't.
Maybe 2017 will bring me some gumption. But like I said in my Sunday Update, wishing for 2017 to be better only works if you're willing to do something to make it better. When I figure out what that something is, I'll let you know.
* My great-grandmother was fond of saying 'Whatever blows your skirt up' instead of 'whatever floats your boat.'