At the beginning of April, I wrote a post about a rabbit hole I had fallen into. I had found an author who is new to me and whose work I was thoroughly enjoying. Well, I’m here to tell you that I’m still stuck. I’m reading book 28 and I’m doing my best to take a little longer to read each book. Because you see everything else has stopped. This is not good.
My muse seems to have taken a vacation and I’m pretty sure she packed a bag, a big one. I haven’t written a new poem or a new short story in months. I used to write a new poem every week, I did that for years. For a while it was two poems a week. Now I have the desire but not the thoughts. Fortunately, I have a cache to draw upon so I should never be without something. I have over 50 short stories, well over 300 poems and 10 years of posts to choose from so you will not do without. But I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that I’m having a wee bit of difficulty getting you anything really new. Sorry.
It’s funny actually. I’m sitting here looking at this blank screen when usually my mind doesn’t stop working. I often relate it to a hamster on a wheel. It’s annoying but right at this very moment I miss it. That’s not always the way. My apartment is so quiet and yet while I crave silence, I’m not enjoying it in my brain. I think I have seven books left to finish. I wonder if my muse will come back then. I hope so.