Am not dead.

Spent much of the last couple weeks in one of my periodic hyperventilatory bouts of writer’s block. It was my turn on the slab with the Secret Cabal last night, which meant that I had to get, you know, an actual story that people could read into their hands well ahead of time. And although sometimes a deadline is exactly what I need to spur me into action, this time it just triggered a meltdown, and I stopped answering emails because doing so would require sitting at the computer and typing. Which, you know, would just raise the question in my own mind of why I wasn’t working on the story. Anyway, I got there eventually: I finally turned in a 1.0 draft of a story idea that had been rattling around in my head for nearly a year.

As the Cabal rightly pointed out, there were some good ideas in there, but they didn’t really get treated very well. In my panic I had resorted to writing another conflict-free gay-themed romantic comedy with cool technology in it but no characters of particular interest. Still, on the subway home I had the 2.0 plot blossom in my head like one of those capsules that kids drop in the bathtub: poof! It’s a big rubbery lizard! With conflict and stuff! So we’ll see where things go from here.

If I need to take a break from that, Nora is all over me to do a revision on the Stevie Nicks Death Androids story, and I may just have to knuckle under and get her off my back.

Anyway, not dead. I was only hiding.