I'm writing again.
The words are tumbling, toppling, sputtering out over each other, even sometimes when I need to step away to do something else.
I don't know if it's because of the enforced break I had over the insanity of my holiday work, or because that same break gave me plenty of time to incubate when I couldn't be actively writing. I don't know if it's because I finally hit that point in Surgeburnt where I feel sure of the course of events. I don't like to talk about my personal life on here, but I have had a medical development in the past few months, so maybe the treatment has helped.
Who knows? It has been a great development, for reasons including the fact I can now tackle a number of short stories that have been brewing on my brain. In slower periods, the top candidate invariably gets the attention; others fall by the wayside, and are often permanently buried by new concepts.
Of course, the downside to this is I now have heaps of editing to do, including a flash fiction piece finished right before the end of the year, two "cliff-hanger" stories (... one which takes the idea literally), a reprint I wanted to improve before submitting it again, and ... augh ... this doesn't even include my novel Unnatural Causes, which needs its next pass, and I haven't even touched Undertaking Chances, which title may be the most terrible pun I've inflicted on my fiction ...
Can I clone myself and make the other one do the editing?