Unfocused

I recognize this inability to focus as what it is for me, namely the storm before the calm. My brain flits here and there, lighting upon one shiny thing after another, but not being able to rest there for more than a few minutes before it’s off again, following some new bubble of thought.

This is my brain resetting before it focuses in on a project.

The project would be this stack of unfinished writing I have here, waiting for me to dive back into it.

I know my routine very well by this point–the writing bits and pieces here and there, the tinkering with stories that really should be designated as finished and put out into the world to do whatever it is they’re going to do, the plotting of grand narratives in my head and the occasional napkin.

This is the storm. The calm that follows is when this story here will be done, and this story here, and this one there, and this novel will gather up another four or five chapters.

It’s a good thing Nikola is out of town right now, and that Bez is distracted with some new painting. Once I start really working here again, I won’t feel like I’m ignoring anyone as the writing gets underway.

On a related note, I have two stories finished over here, and I am in the process of getting them digitally released into the world, but I am not hearing back from any of the photographers whose photos I’d like to adapt as cover art. I’m thinking perhaps that I’ll need to move on soon, and realize that I’m not going to hear back, and begin the process of putting together some other pieces of art to slap onto the digital covers.

I should make Bez do it. She’s easily bought with snacks and massages.

Then again, aren’t we all?

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