There have been some changes, some good, some not so. In my little corner of England, everyone is talking to each other more, from a safe distance. We shout over the garden fence, exchange more conversation on our infrequent trips to the shops, offer to help in different ways. There’s a spirit of community, it’s nice. On the negative, being unable to visit family is a bit of a pain, at least there is video calling.
In a lot of ways, it’s like being on a cargo ship with a crew of 17. There are a few people around you that you see now and then, the rest of the world is remote, accessed only by what you see and hear on TV, radio or the internet.
With no idea how long things will stay like this, I’m rationing my jobs. I have a shed to tidy, a kitchen to decorate and my study needs a spruce up. But there’s no sense of urgency, a little bit each day will leave me with something to do long term.
I also thought that the changes in my lifestyle brought on by you-know-what might mean that I would do a little more writing.
On my current job-list, there are some graphics projects I need to complete and a couple of blog posts to write about my upcoming audiobooks.
Additionally, I have seven or eight half-completed novels. I was rather hoping that a spell of enforced isolation might lead to me finishing one or more of them. Or at least, getting a bit closer to that point.
And yet…,
Maybe it’s uncertainty, there are other things on my mind at the moment. I guess I’m not alone in that. Because of it, I can’t settle to writing much more than a few words here and there. In case you were wondering, I’m not out all day scouring South Devon for toilet rolls, the shops here are well stocked, the other shoppers civilised and sensible. We have all we need and there appears to be no sign that the situation will change. The garden needs attention there are other jobs, so in that respect, we have plenty to occupy us. Ironically, now we are staying at home, the weather, which had kept us in for months, is now beautiful.
Meanwhile, the novels languish, sequels to Jungle Green, A New Life in Ventis, Survive, Life and Other Dreams, The Hitman and the Thief, The Sensaurum and the Lexis and Andorra Pett and her Sister are all sitting on my desktop and currently show no signs of growing. Nor does any more of the plot of In the Wilderness suggest itself.
I also have two short stories that I want to extend, The Orbital Livestock Company and Passing Thru. One of them could well become this year’s NaNo project.
All I need now is some inspiration, motivation; call it what you will. My get up and go has got up and gone. In an ideal world, if I worked like other authors and was able to plot, maybe I could outline the novels and fill in the blanks later. Unfortunately, my mind doesn’t work like that. I’m stuck waiting for the voices in my head to give me a clue as to what happens.
Why won’t they tell me? Perhaps they too have other things on their minds?
Stay safe everyone.
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