Staring at a blank Word document always makes me feel a bit uneasy.
Starting from scratch. Pondering, scheming, struggling to muster an ounce of creativity. How does one return to the writing groove? Such fleeting moments of inspiration.
My brain is tired of thinking. My hands grow stiff at this keyboard. My back aches. My soul feels empty. Everything I write feels terribly cliché. Terribly unoriginal.
Conceiving the 2nd book chapter for a new publisher is not easy work. People expect immediate outputs. The outline and draft proposal expected next week. Thankfully the chapter for Book #1 is undergoing 2nd round of peer edits, so it should be done and dusted (and published) by early summer.
This particular piece is tough to conjure. It is not related to my previous peacekeeping bullocks.
I’m still in my PJ’s. Coffee has grown cold and stale. Time for a walk to fire up the neurons.