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Woah, it’s been way too long since I’ve posted.

And do you know why? Because I’m STUCK.

Song is done, and being shredded (I hope!) by betas as I write this. Crown, book the third in this trilogy, is outlined, blurbed, plotted, blueprinted, character bioed, flash carded and noted half to death; ready to go: but I refuse to start that one until I have some sense of whether the first book will actually sell, because writing three books when they all depend on the success of one seems like an awful lot of work I could be aiming toward another potential series.

And oh, do I have a great idea for said potential series…I have characters, and scenes, and a world, and themes, and all sorts of shiny sparkly things.  And my MC is great fun, and her sidekick is even greater fun right now.

So why has it been five days since I posted, and longer than that since I’ve written scene number whatever, or picked away at the lovely blank page that is my outline, or even just stared dreamily into the middle distance, pipe puffing pompously, stroking my very beardless chin and contemplating the profound, abiding themes of my novel-to-be?

I have no farking idea.

This is The Next Step. Write something new. Make it compelling, engaging, fun. Gods know I’ve read enough on this subject to make my own list of what works and what doesn’t – and yet. I open the file, I stare at the page; I re-read the scenes I’ve already done, get excited about them; re-read the notes I’ve made, and get excited about them; wander through the internets reading about fireworks, well-digging, mangonels and the like – and by the time I’ve done all that I’m sure this is going to be great, if only I can get one word on the page.

Characters? Got ’em. They’re a little thin on background yet, but I never have a problem with characters: my books always start there. It’d be nice to know a little more about where they live, what they do, and what they want, though.

Plot? Sketchy at best. What I want is Rembrandt in full technicolor glory, with sound effects and those creepy eyes that follow you wherever you go. What I have is this:



I know what I need to do. I’m certainly not short on instructions about how to get there. But Sword, Song and Crown are still rattling around in my head like kids high on those yard-long pixie sticks, stomping all over my mojo with their flashy-light, retractable-wheel high-top Nikes and singing the latest Spears song so loud that little whisper of inspiration I’ve been listening for gets drowned out by the staggeringly clever refrain “if you seek Amy”.

Argh. Somebody smack me.