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So I finished all the short stories for the various competitions that closed on the 30th of September (and all those of the previous month). I also sent all the entries in on time.

I have to admit that I’m exhausted.

I’m at a point where I cannot write anything anymore. I’m in a desert where even the most simple sentences seems like too much effort. Even writing this post seems to take more out of me than sewing a dress from start to finish.

in a writing desert

It hurts to think.

Yet I know I still have a lot of writing to do. That fourth draft of my YA novel isn’t going to write itself. (And I don’t know any elves who would do it for me… Though I’m not sure I’ll be as sanguine as the shoemaker if my work was done for me.)

For now, I’m going to let my mind rest a bit. Perhaps finish sewing a couple of dresses for summer? Repot my orchids? Finish the books on my reading list?

Then, when my creative mind has had time to recuperate, I’ll tackle that novel and rewrite it to perfection. Or perhaps I’ll still stare at a blank screen, the cursor mocking me, waiting for words that refuse to appear.

Your life changes the moment you make a new, congruent and committed decision. – Anthony Robbins

Any suggestions of books I should read? Or suggestions to get out of this funk? I’d love to get some feedback.

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