Call Me Coward, Not Ishmael

Genuinely I'm at a bit of a loss right now. Not a loss. Let me explain. I have entries for all upcoming challenges and unofficial challenges (besides Tim's and Leslie's, actually, glad I remembered those), and find myself with no real WIP really. Well, that's not true because I have a few shelved WIP that I am sitting on because I don't want to dive into them just yet. Call me a coward, not Ishmael! I don't care.

Ruth is away visiting her mother. So I have some more time on my hands. As well as some stuff I need to do around the house, it does mean I can finally maybe start trying to finish off my long delayed second poetry collection. I am also considering gathering all my winning pieces and putting a collection together.

We shall see.

Anyway. So aside from those plans I have nothing else on the horizon.

Am I worried?

No.

I don't so writer's block. So. There you go.

I might finally do my own pithy guide, as a man with 9 wins and several runner ups and honourable mentions (spelled correctly cos pedant), for anyone wondering why they haven't won anything yet.

Dispense some of my hard earned experience and tips.

I may also just write something like a journal piece.

I am going to be reading a lot more because as the grief fog clears more I am feeling more motivated. I can't believe I was able to get pieces on for deadlines when I felt so shitty. Writing is a good escape like that. This year was already a success in terms of Vocal challenge wins because my wins count is already better than last year.

Also, I need to put up a new curtain pole and new curtains so I can dick around with a drill and pretend I'm a DIY guy who knows what he's doing.

If anyone has any requests, this would be the time to ask for them.

Ever wondered what a Paul Stewart (insert genre) story might be like?

Surprise me! Maybe I'll Moby Dick it or Lord of the Flies you. Or maybe I'll write a brand new Lady Chatterley's Lover all about an asexual florist.

Who knows?