Unplanted, unseeded, unsown, bare, empty, seedless…
Uncreative, unproductive, barren, idle, inactive…
Driving out to the in-laws place for Christmas dinner, we saw a lot of fallow land. Crops harvested and the land let sit until spring plowing. I’m feeling a lot like those forgotten fields.
I wrote three books, two novellas, and a handful of shorts for 2013. And a whole lot of blogs, not just a peck but a bushel or two, keeping up the farm imagery. So this week, as I’m off for my holiday, I thought I’d tidy up the year by finishing a romance that I’d started during the spring. I’d set it and all my notes aside when the Tourist Trap mysteries were contracted in April.
Unfortunately, I’m being uncreative, unproductive, and barren, at least for my word count. I've read my previous chapters trying to get back into the story. I've pulled out my vision board for the story, placing it next to my computer so I can see the images. Four days, 1062 words. Not my best showing.
So, instead I’m switching gears and working on page proofs for Guidebook to Murder, Book 1 of the Tourist Trap Mysteries. I moved my books to a new place. I've kind of cleaned my desk. And, to prove I’m utterly blocked, I've not only kept up my exercise plan, I set up a budget for 2014.
Instead of fighting the lack of progress, I’m taking the time to recharge by reading, watching movies, and spending time with my loved one. I’ll try for words again tomorrow. Today, I have a book calling my name.
What are you doing this long winter’s night?