by Kathleen Bradean
This is the week where jealousy will burn through me as fellow Grippers talk about their works in progress, while I have nothing going on. Nothing.
Oh sure, I write this weekly post, and I review for Erotica Revealed, and my FB quips fly fast and furious, but none of that is a work in progress. I'm beta reading novels for friends. I'm sending out query letters to agents for my novel. No progress to report there. So I'm drifting, not progressing, not writing.
I haven't read through ERWA's calls for submissions for almost a year now. If an editor contacts me directly, I'll usually manage to put together a story, but I haven't been inspired to write a short story on my own for a long, long time. Garce's story challenge a few weeks ago was the closest I've come to letting my imagination run rampant because I didn't have to worry about creating a publishable tale. Intermittently, I think about putting together a collection of my work, but that's as far as that thought ever goes.
What I am doing is puzzling out the next book in my science fiction series - where to start, what has to happen, who is conspiring with whom and why, who will betray their alliances, and how it must end... But I have nothing to show for it. I haven't written word one.