I've been sick with a bad cold these last few days and in bed with a fevered brain, a box of kleenex, and several dogs.
What I find amazing is how buried I am now. I have so many things to attend to and no time to do many of them. Just the morning I am hopping between two computers working on about five things and none of them have anything to do with my novel.
Sigh. Good thing I finally spent time over the weekend on it. But my momentum is slowing. Perhaps it is all the work I've been doing on my website. Perhaps it is the contract negotiations. Perhaps I'm just tired.
I don't know. I think when I have a lot of new material to write I slow down because I don't necessarily know what's coming next. Eventually, I'll sort that out but sometimes I need to force myself to sit and write and make it come out. I've hit on several unexpected twists that way. Nothing I thought of consciously but it came out while writing and I went with the flow.
And that's what's missing: a flow. A circle where I write regularly so I don't freeze up like the Tin Woodsman. But that's kinda hard just now and this blog is taking precious time away from my other work. Maybe it is time to stop this because as far as I know writing the blog has been an exercise in talking to myself and I get enough of that on a daily basis. I don't need to put it in written form too.
But what I'm more likely to do is roll up my sleeves and get the work done. So if you'll excuse me, I've got some decks to clear.