Recently I was diagnosed with a sleep disorder which has caused a number of minor health problems. The problem is that not sleeping has sucked the energy and creative muse right out of me. And for someone who considers the Engerizer Bunny to be a slacker, for someone who is the ultimate overachiever, struggling to just get through the day is frustrating to say the least. And the worst part is…I’m not writing.
There I’ve confessed it. My secret is out.
I’m not afraid that I will never write again. I know this is just a temporary blip. Nevertheless, when I compare myself to Ms. Peggy Fielding who didn’t let a little thing like a stroke slow her down, I feel a bit of inner turmoil. At first I felt lazy not writing. I tried to force myself…but the words just didn’t come. I fell asleep at the computer.
So I decided if I couldn’t summon the energy or muse to write, I’d go back to the well and fill it up. I’d read, read, read, and read some more. Assuming I could stay awake, of course. Reading refills my writer’s soul. When I read a story that sweeps me away I remember why I write. I want to send my readers away too. I’ve rediscovered old loves like Poe, devoured works by my faves like Marilyn Pappano and Kathleen Eagle, and re-read an Inconvenient Corpse by Jackie King, and Blind Sight by Susan Shay.
I know I will write again. Until this drought ends, I’m filling the well with wonderful stories.