Lost in the Woods

I spend my writing life on both sides of the editorial fence. Once upon a time not so very long ago--when my work life took place outside my home--this was not the case. Every minute I spent at the keyboard or with pen and ink centered on my own creativity. Not now. Now I may work seven days a week, four weeks a month on a client's memoir or novel. As a self-employed editor and ghostwriter I give as much of my energy and attention to honing a client's story as I do when I work on my own. One hundred percent.

In the beginning, my editing jobs didn't interfere with my stuff. Usually I worked on my own projects in the morning, and devoted the rest of the work day to my latest client. This way my own writing always gets done. But lately I haven't always been able to pull that off. I've taken on some bigger projects for other people and while my bank account is singing, my muse is not.

Now the bulk of those big tasks are behind me, I'm facing a problem I haven't dealt with in years. Writer's block.

In the last four years I've finished a young adult novel titled Selkie Song, finished the draft of an historical novel based on the Apocryphal Book of Judith, which is currently in revision. My memoir Love is the Thread is under consideration by a publisher. And I've started a new YA called The Fairy Gate. Laurel, the main character, is currently stuck in Fairy, where she waits for me to show up so we can figure out how she can rescue her step-sister. But after six weeks of focusing all my attention on editing other writers' works, I'm not sure how to get Laurel out of limbo.

I've let my creativity muscles go lax. I'm blogging right now instead of sitting down and listening for and to my character, who's lost in the Fairy woods. I've spent too much time in editor world, in writer's business land. I'm as lost as Laurel, in a less magical place.

Well. If I can sit down and write this, I guess--no, I know--I can sit here a while longer and see if Laurel's path connects with mine. Let's see if I can find my way into Fairy from here . . .