This is the third night I haven't written. Saturday night was a necessity--I was braindead. Last night was weird. Tonight, I'm beginning to suffer Keyboard Withdrawal. Every cell is telling me I should be sitting here writing. When eight o'clock hit, I actually got ready to write--until I remembered that I finished and I'm supposed to be taking a break. I meant to take a week off, but I don't think I'm going to last that long.
I want to write. I don't even have another book in the shute and ready to start, but I'm itching to work. *sigh* So much for a break. Eh, I'll take a break when I'm dead.
Sooooo, what now?
I don't want to touch Manhunter yet. It's needs time to simmer. If I jump into it now, I won't see the things that need to be fixed because I need the objectivity time brings. Not a whole lot of time, mind you. That's one of the great things about brain damage--a week is enough time for me to forget how married I am to a sentence. I'll probably take two, just to make sure though.
That leaves me with two... no, three... options.
1) Get back to work on the cute mystery novel that may or may not work into a series.
2) Edit the mystery I never quite finished because I fell out of love with it, even though it still deserves to be finished and published.
3) Hit on a whole new idea and get wrapped up in the first blush of new love again. (Except I'm not really feeling the attraction to anything in my idea file.)
Or, I could do something really odd and pick #4. Number four would be going back to one of the stories I barely started and see what I can make out of the pages I already have.
You see, I still love Redemption, even though I'm not quite sure how to make it work. I could probably sink my teeth into that one fairly easy and I loved writing it. I still have the hots for Nano, too. It's more a techno-thriller, and it's got teeth. Then I also have the one book where I wrote the beginning and the end, but never got around to the middle--the one that if I smushed the end into the beginning it would make an awesome short story. On the other hand, if I actually wrote the middle, it would stand as a novel. (I know that sounds weird, but you'll have to trust me on the fact that it would work. It's a different kind of story.)
And then there's the memoir I've been playing around with. Oh, plus the historical piece loosely based on my grandfather and his children in 1930s Detroit.
Time will tell what I'll do. All I know right now is I have to work soon before the DTs get me. If you ask my husband, I'm sure he'll tell you I'm already starting to get a little fruity.
And it's only been three nights.
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