Dunno what it is, but there's a shift.
Shifting away from fiction.
Towards... I don't know.
No, not away from fiction.
Just away from the idea that came back and wanted to be worked on.
We're taking some time off.
We need our space.
It kinda feels like getting dumped, when an idea pulls away.
You give it so much time, so much energy, and then all of a sudden,
Just... ignoring you.
For the time being, at least.
I could go back, back to the collected past of ideas,
And pull something out of the pile and see what can happen.
But I don't know if I want to do that.
For so long, writing has defined part of my life.
Who I am.
What I do.
I don't remember the last drought period, but there has to be one.
I could check the books, find it,
And maybe I'll do that.
When I have the time.
If I ever have the time.
That's when I'll go back and find an idea to work on.
But until then?
Until then, the nebulosity of the new and unproven floats around.
Maybe someday, they'll want to come out.
Until then, I'll just be.