Being between stories is, for me anyway, a condition that can last from just a few minutes to a few months. I'm currently on day three and getting twitchy. My head has four or five different ideas idling along, but none has coalesced into anything resembling a plot yet.
I've started on two different stories so far in the past days, but neither excite me enough to carry on, so they've joined the (large) directory of fragments that might come in handy someday.
I've had a look around currently open anthologies, but there's nothing there that takes my fancy as an assignment. And nobody has invited me to sub to an antho for a few months now, so I don't have that discipline to drive me.
And I just don't want to start another novel at the moment, having spent a lot of my recent time locked into them.
So I'm drifting, for a few days at least.
I'm not sure I like the experience much, but until the muse kicks back in, I have little choice but to noodle away here on the blog, check out the Fortean Times, and drink beer... actually, things aren't half bad, are they?
