All of a sudden there's expectations.
Up until now I wrote, submitted and wrote again. I was master of my own game. Now, while I still am master I've heard rumblings that people may expect things, novels done maybe so that there's something to submit, proposals offered, so there's something to write and maybe - eureka - publish.
Expectations - one more step on the ladder, one step closer and I didn't expect to freeze.
Freeze - There's not a snowflake on the ground, nor will there be here in sunny Arizona so there's no reason to freeze.
I gave myself a stern talking to - it was the twentieth or so in the series. This one finally stuck. I don't know if it was the dishtowel in my hand or the latest review of my last book. But it all got me thinking and all of a sudden it was there, it was back. One thousand words later and a blog post - I've got it back - not my inspiration but my discipline, and the inspiration, well I suspect it's following right along behind. It's not going to have much choice - it's that or be dragged.
Who knew that a little discipline came in the form of a dish towel? What keeps you going?