Yeah, I’ve pretty much hit a wall with the writing thing. Here’s what happened.

I sent off my biggest book to date to The Gorgeous Editor so she could do her magic. I pulled it back from her a couple of times because there were chapters to add and enhancements to make. This included some emotional scenes that were tough to write because, by nature and nurture, I am not a particularly emotional person. After I sent her the final-final draft version, I was spent.

This is new ground for me and am unsure how others deal with this. For some writers, they’re clinical and perhaps don’t invest the feelings. After all, it’s just a book.

So here I am, sitting in front of a screen and having no clue what to do next. TGE wants me to write sequels because (1) they sell, and (2) she wants to know what happens next. The problem is I’ve no idea what happens next.

The solution to this headache is to force myself to write. Sit down like a pianist at a Steinway and keep tapping the keys until the notes sound like a song. Maybe my muse will wake up soon. God, I hope so. This doing-nothing-thing is driving me crazy.

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