But the last few weeks have been dry. I don't feel like I'm up a creek without a paddle. I feel like I'm in the Mojave Desert without a camel. Or water. Or friends.
In truth, I'm blessed with good friends. I've been 'growing' my retinue of writer-friends. They understand me so well that sometimes I only have to start a sentence and they nod and laugh and I know they've been there, done that.
Saturday I met with such a friend. We both have lost our camels. I've seen this happen with other writers. One of the horrors of NOT writing is that it becomes a habit. And starting up again seems more a duty than a pleasure.
At times like these, I find arranging writing times with friends (at the local library or coffee shop) helps this nasty syndrome. I'm going to arrange such a writing session for this upcoming week-end. I refuse to fall into the cracks of not-writing. Horrid place.
Otherwise, I'm hanging in there. Another friend wrote that she had terrible times trying to get up the courage (or whatever on earth it takes) to send out querry letters. She received a response to one she'd forgotten she'd sent. Much rejoicing.
I found it interesting and heartening to know that others struggle with the same struggles I have. My editor told me that of all the attendees at writing conferences, less than 1/2 actually try to send out their MSs. And even less than that actually send them out. I am not alone.
Life is courage.