This coming weekend I am going down to the island for a period of writing immersion. The very thought of it makes me smile. And feel relieved. It has been too long since I've spent time with my characters in their world, and they feel like shadow creatures, rather than the flesh and blood they once were.
I have let my life get out of control a little bit. I allowed a natural distance from the story to form while I prepared my Hachette submission, but failed to regain the ground, and instead let it slip further and further away like a boat that has slipped its mooring. It is too far away now for a simple tug, and I will have to haul and haul and haul on a water-logged rope to get it back again.
It may happen that I spend hours reading back over what I have previously written, and simply thinking. I may need to pick up a pen and try to tap into the creative part of my brain using free writing techniques. But whatever it takes, I will be spending time in that world and that story -- something that has not happened in a few months.
I admit that for the past 6 weeks, I have been fairly obsessed with Trailwalker. Between that and dabbling with voluntary communications for Aussiecon 4, I have had little brain space left for anything else. And while I will probably spend a little time this weekend on both these things -- going for one or two purposeful walks, and developing up some copy for a promotional flyer -- I intend to spend the great majority of time on my novel.
I certainly do not regret taking on these additional activities. I believe both will be enlivening experiences, and Trailwalker in particular is for such a worthwhile cause. But I do want to get some balance back. Writing is key element of my overall character, and I feel that when I'm not writing there is something missing. I'm not quite whole. This weekend is about finding my way again.