Strange...

This year (and where did it go??? How can it be nearly Christmas already???) my writing has been a bit - well - sluggish. I seem to have spent half the year completing, editing, copy editing, proof-reading Moonshine - and the remainder writing Midnight Feast (okay, The Way To A Woman's Heart) which is nearly finished now and is going okay and I still like it. But there's been no ooomph. No fizzing of new ideas. No exciting new plots fighting to be heard. No avalanche of brilliant stories simply itching to see the light of day or computer screen. Just a sort of becalmed, day-to-day "must get this finished" sort of doldrummy feeling. Until now.

Now, out of the blue, I've got more ideas than I know what to do with. How weird is that? Goodness knows if they're any good - but where on earth did they come from? Suddenly I've got the titles and opening paragraphs for a dozen short stories (and to my shame, I haven't written ONE short story this year), the next novel in the Hazy Hassocks series has sort of popped, fully-formed, into my head when I least expected it to, two more are buzzing about, and even more odd - I've suddenly got an idea for an entire new series for a genre of novels (Young Adult) that I've never even thought about before.

I've had weeks - nay months - this year when I'd have killed for one original idea, just a single even vaguely interesting new plotline. Weeks and weeks when I've sat and doodled and given myself brain-ache (and a feeling of palm-sweating terror) wondering if this was the end of the creative road. And let's face it, if I don't make my living from writing we're doomed to the eternal breadline because I'm definitely unemployable. Now for some unknown reason, I don't know which novel and/or short story to start on next - well, when TWTAWH is finished and delivered at least.

This has NEVER happened to me before. I've never been one of those writers who claims they'll be dead before they've written all the stonking novels they've got planned. Never had more ideas than I know what to do with. Never ecstatically started A New Book within a nano-second of the last one leaving the computer. For me, each book or short story becomes more difficult to write because I'm so sure it's all been done/said/written before - and probably much, much better...

Of course, being realistic, half these ideas are probably rubbish and will possibly never develop into anything saleable - but oooh, it's so lovely to have them. It's like going back to the early days of being a writer when everything was all shiny and new and my enthusiasm knew no bounds. Back to the days of being all starry-eyed about being published - and I LOVE it!