For once, not a typo.

But I’m still not writing.

Well, I am  writing. Just not at the level of output I’m used to. A few hundred words a day, tops.

Which is frustrating for me. I love pounding out words. There is no greater joy than watching that word count rise (Well, nothing regarding my kids counts here. I’m talking about professional joy.).

Yet, even this morning, I worked on my Hedge Doctor trilogy instead of finishing the damned story.

I know I’ll get it done, but I hate being behind schedule like this. And I hate that I can’t seem to get the words out.