My life is not my own right now. My schedule has blown up, NaNoCleMo is on my back, and I have a lot of writing decisions clanging around in my head. What’s missing from my life is any real writing. No stories, no poems, no progress on the next novel. Nothing.
It’s weird. I’m not at all sure I’m me. I think I’m a clone. The real me couldn’t make her NaNoCleMo goal last year because she couldn’t keep away from the keyboard. Weird me is right on track this year. The problem is not writer’s block. It’s more like writer’s amnesia—or maybe not.
Maybe the real me is on writer’s retreat. Yeah, that’s it. Let this pseudo Linda take care of the several important tasks needing completion by the end of the month. Then she can go away and let real Linda return—with all the fabulous writing she’ll undoubtedly compile while away.
But let’s hope the clone presently in charge comes up with a better blog post next time. It’s the least she can do.