Becalmed

...and floundering in the doldrums. Another Monday, another week begins as the wait continues. There was a time when I was over the moon because Robert Guinsler of Sterling Lord was reading a full. Since then, I have learned not to expect much, not even a reply, because an acceptance or a rejection may not be forthcoming.

When work on the WIP slowed, I tried writing other things to re-charge the old creative batteries. Three short pieces are out on submission, I revised another manuscript, and today I just can't get motivated to go back to the WIP. My brain is distracted by another idea that's been tumbling about, and the research books are sitting in the pile, calling softly.

Watch out! A subject for a bit of non-fiction just climbed out of the darkness. Just a short article, and the research would take me only as far as the county courthouse to pick up some documents and it's only half a day's work and the article would practically write itself, being half-formed in my head even now. Stop! Leave me alone! I must be disciplined. I must finish the novel. I must get the self-doubt out of the way and sit at the desk, pick up the pen, and write. Hush now. No more of that talk, about not being published and how do you know if you're putting the action in the right spot and does the back story belong over there?

If only a wind would blow and I could get started. No more of that. There was a time when sailors would strike up the white ash breeze and row out of the doldrums. I'm off to whip up a Waterman breeze.