For I-don’t-know-how-long-now I’ve been trying to write my way through the next sequence of the novel I’ve been working on. I think I must have more false starts than ever before.
Fifty pages in, I just can’t seem to find the channel. There’s a lot of good writing in there, a lot of plot and character and for some reason I’m not sure where I am.
No idea why.
This isn’t writer’s block. This is something diffferent.
Somewhere along the way, I must have taken my hand off the wall of the maze.
Tonight . . . I’m reaching out, blindly, trying to find it again…