This feels weird.
I have nothing to write. But it’s not just that. It’s that I don’t have anything to work on in my mind. I’m not busy thinking ahead a few chapters. I’m not busy plotting and scheming. I’m just not busy.
And that’s weird.
What’s almost disconcerting is the lack of need to write. I am so totally not compelled to write anything (except this blog entry). If I were an inexperienced writer, I’d be terrified that I just finished the one and only book that’s in me. Luckily, I know better.
My writing mind is taking a well-deserved break. I am taking a well-deserved break. I’ll be back in front of the computer come next Monday, ready to start working on THE GHOST CRAB again (which has been on my mind lately).
So this week I am not going to plot and scheme and work out chapter sequences. I’m going to do all those mundane things I usually neglect: housework. Already, yesterday I did a ton of laundry and even folded it right away. There’s plenty more to do around the house. I’ll even cook some dinners.
There’s nothing like housewifely chores to get my writing mind working again …
PS. I checked the USPS site. Predictably, the package hasn’t been delivered yet :-)