Well, I have completed writing the story of Wacky in WhoVille. It is not in final form for publication, of course. I am going to set it aside for a while now to percolate before I do the final revision and editing of the final chapters. I enjoy much of the book, but I have to admit that writing the last bit became a dull slog. Not the story itself, with which I am fairly pleased. And I like the ending of the book better than the ending of the story, to be honest. But somewhere about the middle of April, the creative steam ran out. I plugged along to the end, but I am putting it aside to come back in a month or so. I hope by then I can do that final revision/editing with a fresh head.
That does not mean that I won't be writing at all. After several friendly pokes from a friend, I am pondering another Texas book. He suggested more about some of the characters in Blakesfield, the town in Except for His Wings. I am giving that thought, but I am drawing a blank so far. I suspect that I have told all there is in me to tell on that score. I am going to Texas to visit some of my family next month. Maybe that trip will strike a spark.
But I am thinking. Tom comes in and says, "What'cha doin'?"
It must be hard to live with a writer when he/she is not actually sitting at the keyboard writing. When we are sitting and staring into space, it looks like we are doing nothing or are depressed or perhaps developing one of the many forms of dementia that you will find by going on the internet, which I highly recommend you don't do. Especially if you are supposed to be coming up with an idea for a book. Unless you want to do a book about dementia, which I don't.
When I meet new people, I sometimes make the mistake of telling them I am a writer or that I write. This leads to awkward questions, and not just the inevitable, "Where do you get your ideas?"
"Have I seen anything you wrote?"Not likely, unless you were looking for it"What kind of things do you write?"Oh, I have written mystery novels and novels about a college for misfits and books about meditation and spirituality and theological articles for magazines and reference works."What are you writing now?"Nothing. Well, three or four things. I'm just thinking."Huh. Do you do something else?"
At least no one has asked me if you can make a living writing. The answer to which, by the way, is not unless you are one of a dozen thriller/romance/supernatural-genre-of-the-moment-author-syndicates.
Which I ain't.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
About that quote at the top of this post. I would say it is about 80%.