Seven months. That was a long time.

This has been a terrible week, for none of the normal reasons. Leave it to me to find new ways to be internally miserable. I'm amazing. But these things, along with many other things, have really been interfering with my ability to write. I can't tell you how many times I've sat down at the table and just...come up blank. For example, this was originally going to be an exercise post. Just a bit of description, maybe a scene. I got nothing. I've saved and edited and written and resaved this post about a dozen times now. It's not working.

I'm hoping that once the house is settled and I've got an established place to work, things will sort out. But that's a month away, and there are deadlines. I have to start being realistic about my abilities. For a long time I've been trying to really push myself on this book, and it's just not going to happen. Need to settle into something I can actually do. Be realistic.

Okay. Another grim post. This is why people flee from me.