And I'm not talking about my usual. You know, when I go into a store in the mall and come out and have NO idea which way I came from. Not that. At least not right now.
I feel as though I've lost my literary map. My compass is gone. And I'm lost in the vast wilderness of my mind. Spooky, in case you were wondering.
I have not written anything this week besides perhaps a paragraph or two. I did edit a story. But I have not originally written much of anything. And I'm flailing here.
I haven't the foggiest.
I still get flashes of insight for works in progress. I still have creative thoughts about titles and characters. But I don't have the SOMETHING in my right now to pursue it. I've lost my way.
I have a Contemporary Erotic that I'm almost 20,000 words in. I like the way it's going. I'm still pleased with the result. But I cannot seem to grasp hold of the reins again.
I don't think this is a block. I think this is a mouse-in-a-maze type thing. Where's my cheese, I ask? And who the hell is pulling the lever?
I don't do well with frustration.
My other oddity would be that my thoughts have shifted. Just a small sidestep. A shifting of feelings and perceptions. And I think that's what has altered my writing world. And I don't know how to get it back. And even at that, I'm not sure I want to.
I have sat at this damn desk this entire week and done absolutely nothing. (Besides the small edit) And I would rather go walk, get out, or plan my summer. Because I don't do well with all this inactivity. And if I'm not writing, then I'm going to start doing something else.
Also...still looking for the perfect job. We'll see how this one pans out.
3 months ago