Daylog, here I am again. How I missed your glorious blinking cursor and pretty white screen. I have returned.

I have been very busy doing a whole lot of nothing. Seriously, I'm thinking back on everything I've been busy with and can't think of much that I actually accomplished. Just kind of treading water here. It's mostly restless energy. I have two books on submission (one fiction, one nonfiction, both through separate agents to different publishers). It's hard to concentrate on things. When my first book went on submission, I turned to my nonfiction pursuits to help keep my mind off it, and now that THAT one got signed and is making the rounds it's hard to find other places to turn.

So I guess I was bouncing around reading blogs and arguing with assholes on the Internet. I've been productive by most people's standards. I'm running two webcomics and haven't stopped updating them on time. I edited a book for a client and edited one of mine. I made a list of baby names for my sister (hello, I'm going to be an aunt!). I'm writing essays and posting vacation photos. I'm entertaining people with Internet karaoke. I'm making videos about asexuality and writing tips. I'm being interviewed in mainstream media here and there. I'm completing silly little projects. I found a way to squeeze more bookshelf space into my two-bedroom apartment.

But I've been dissatisfied. Some is the nervous energy from the submissions process, and some of it is just that I'm really not doing any creative writing and not making time to read. I wasn't blocked or anything; I just didn't feel that I could handle undertaking what is always an extremely emotional task for me when I was already emotionally exhausted. I know how bad that is, but it's also true that every writer goes through phases and NOT every writer will benefit from prescriptive advice given by other writers ("nonono, young Padawan, you MUST write every single day if you expect to ever be a True Writer™!"). I'm one of those binge writers. I like to dive into a project, write an obscene number of words in a short period of time, and then rest for a while. That's how I roll.

Too bad I have rolled to a stop and haven't started again. I've been stalled since June 2012, when I finished my most recent novel. And I haven't been stagnant; I've been creative in other ways, and have been writing other things. I've just been frustrated at my inability to be a superhuman all the time. I found out I really can't do it all. And writing and reading were sacrificed, because I needed the emotional reprieve.

I decided recently that that reprieve is over. I downloaded a to-do list app and tried to get my life in order. Made some ideal goals and some minimum goals, and promised myself I wouldn't flog my own ass too hard if I only accomplish the minimums. I've been blogging and tweeting and commenting and having fun interacting with both writing and non-writing communities more. I've been reading every day and loving it. I've written part of a short story as a test to see if I can handle writing the sequel to my fantasy novel in this emotional climate. (I think so. Which is good. Because my agent is gently asking for book 2.)

I'm liking it, but I'm a bit tired at the same time that I'm energized, so I'm not sure how it's going to work out. I hope I don't burn out.

If I do, I guess I should give myself permission to lie there for a while.

We'll see what happens.

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