It's nice to have the familiar old characters floating around my head again, at least. And I am getting random bits of plot threads: an assassination plot. Maybe something to do with the King of England. (that would be two different plot bits.) Things of that nature. I think I'm still in staring-into-space-and-listening-to-NPR mode. Maybe a few long walks and some dog wrestling. Still no hurry. I got me a nice pile of manuscripts to worry about, and I'm still not entirely done fussing at Bridge. And those two require entirely different headspaces, let me tell you.
Writing isn't easy. It's an all day, every day kind of thing in some respects--my brain is always fussing at stories. And I'm not so much blocked right now as empty.
I've been thinking lately about "doing things right," and the terrible necessity that that is. I wonder what I'm doing right, if anything. And what I could be doing better.
Writing is hard.
In other news, though, SFReader.com likes us.
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