I'm having one of those days when writing is more like ironing than the flowing joy I love. I don't have writer's block. Instead, I have too many projects on my mind, and, eager to work on them all, I'm having trouble settling on one.
A friend wrote me last night after she saw The Road to Nowhere post, and after reading her comments, my mind began twisting the Lookout plot like one of those weird candy machines twists saltwater taffy. Then today, I doodled with a story that will either become my 2010 Genesis entry, or a short story (I prefer the latter.) It deals with the depth of sacrifice and is the most serious story I've developed.
I want to sit at the computer and crank them both out. But alas, writing takes a bit longer than that.
So instead of writing either, or revising the story I've been working on, I'm not writing anything at all. I know. Doesn't make sense to me, either.