Tick...tick...tick...

We recently posted Marilyn's article called "When the Muse Takes a Hike" in the Playground library. I read it, thought about it, rationalized it, but still find myself in the same pickle I've been in since Reno. My brain is on pause. I've been writing paralyzed since I got the full request. I've always been the kind to write 20 pages in one day, then not write again for three weeks, but this time its serious.

When I signed up for an editor appointment, six months before the conference, I was certain I would be done with my MS. By the time Reno came, I was sadly about 2/3 done. After absorbing all that data from Reno, I had to go back and incorporate what I learned into the story. Since Reno, I've written approximately, oh, say 25 pages. "What??" you say? "Your editor requested the full and you haven't sent it yet??"

Uh, well, yeah, that's about it. I've thought, revised, plotted, added a subplot, etc., but I'm still not done. I told myself that I WILL be done in time to submit to the Golden Heart. No deal. I sent a card to the editor thanking her for the appointment and telling her I was doing some more revisions and would hopefully have it to her early in the new year. Other than that, the file is taunting me from my flash drive.

My characters are silent. My muse apparently on hiatus. The rest of my life is on full speed, however, making the time to sit at the computer and force the words virtually impossible. Excuses. Call it what you will, perhaps the truth is just that I'm afraid. Afraid to finish and send it in. Afraid to get rejected. Afraid to get accepted! I'd build an entirely new playground website to avoid finishing this book. It's horrible. I thought that if I did well in a recent contest that I'd be spurred on. That I would know my book wasn't crap and I could leap in and finish, sending me on my way to publishing stardom. I finished 3rd. Pretty good, but yet the fire hasn't lit.

So here I am. The holidays are barreling towards me. The Inlaws are visiting for Christmas and my house is getting dirtier by the second. My boyfriend and I did some serious engagement ring shopping over Thanksiving sending my mind into a whirled frenzy of wedding thoughts. Work is intensifying, making my brain, which often focuses on my stories as I drive home, focus instead on employee relations issues and training classes. Plenty to keep my mind off Quinn and her dilemma.

In my mind, I can see my brooding Irish hero as he glares at me from time to time, looking at his watch. I don't know why he's so impatient. He's immortal. I'm the one with the time crunch here. Hmmm...blogging...another way for me to avoid writing the book...