I’ve got to admit that after a few weeks of being crazy productive with the words (not here, and for me). I’ve hit a wall. I think I kind of fear the finishing and revising. I’ve got a manuscript that I know needs to be gutted, and I haven’t quite figured out where to start cutting, or splicing. Then I got to looking at some short story concepts, and that… intimidated me, to say the least.
So, yeah, I know it’s an actual case of fail (which I don’t want to admit to. I don’t think it’s true.), a fear of facing ends, or emotional constipation. I do always kind of fear that people will see, or think they see, more of me I want to see when I write real emotion in my characters.
Now that I’ve put that down, again, I think I’m ready to go back and look at Rock and Roll Zombies, missing siblings, and clone murder.
This doesn’t explain why I keep eschewing the sweater I’ve been making since January, but that’s going to be done, soon, too.