Um . . . well . . . it’s kinda like . . . I don’t know?
It’s very popular in certain author circles to claim that writer’s block is not a real thing, that you just need to plant your whiny ass in a chair and get to work.
Sort of like, “people with depression just need to cheer up.”
Thanks. That’s ever so helpful. I’ll get right on that.
Well, I’m here to tell you writer’s block is a real thing.
This case is purely situational and most likely will resolve when current uncertainties are also resolved. (Sorry to be so vague. It involves somebody else’s health and I don’t feel comfortable discussing the details right now.) But at some point in the next . . . while (probably more than a day, probably less than a year), my life is going to completely change.
If I had a better idea when, I probably wouldn’t be so stalled.
For the first three books, I had a scene in my head I was writing toward in each one. Not the climactic scene necessarily, but an image of something late in the story that functioned like landing lights on an airstrip. I had something to guide me in.
This time, my subconscious has not yet informed me what that scene is for Book 4. I know where the series is going and have a fairly good idea of Books 5 and 6, and I know how Book 7 (and the series) is going to end. But there’s always been a hole in the middle where I just didn’t have a clue.
It used to be Book 5, then I realized that the events I was envisioning in 4 really belonged in 5 and some other stuff had to happen first.
And now I’m waiting, trying to trust the process, reassuring myself that my subconscious will deliver the goods eventually.
Unless the devil I don’t know is really an angel and I’ve screwed up a golden chance by being impatient.
So, here I am, in limbo, trying to simply float and let what’s gonna happen happen. It’s playing hell with my production schedule, but I’d rather wait to put out a good book than rush and screw it up.
Thank you for your patience.