I've been working on a story for four months now that is more important to me than any other, as important as Baking for Dave was. But I've hit the proverbial snag and am taking a little break from it. But let me just say- This doesn't mean I'm bailing on it. I would never, ever, ever bail on something that I loved as much as I love the Empath and the Robot. Never. Maybe it's because the story is so close to my heart that it is so hard to write. Maybe it's because I suck at this. I don't know. But I've reached a place with it where I don't know what end is up anymore. And it feels awful.
But like any good, reclusive, semi-crazy, pathetic, starry-eyed writer, I'm using this to my advantage. Trying to write the next chapters of E and R I have felt overwhelmed, lost, like I can't breathe. And in that I found inspiration for the short story I am writing until my book starts making sense again. It's about an everyday person who has the earth fall out from under her one day and finds herself floating in the deep dark, vacuum of space, aptly named "Space".
One day I will come back from "Space" and I'll be able to dive into the Empath and the Robot with the smile that's gone with it since January.
But for now, the void.