I've been rather neglecting this blog of late. I don't really have any excuses to offer - I've been off my game but that's not an excuse.
Since the end of December I've had a lingering persistent mystery virus that's left me feeling permanently under the weather. It's been an unusually long cold winter in the UK. Generally by March we can expect temperatures to be rising into double figures. March this year we were still getting snow. In fact we were still getting snow in April. Now we're into May, and it's more like March - cold and wet.
These things have all contributed to a general feeling of malaise that has gripped me since the beginning of the year. The upshot is, I haven't done nearly enough writing. When I'm not feeling happy I don't sleep. When I don't sleep it's harder to get out of bed early, and I spend the day feeling fatigued. And this leads to not being able to concentrate.
These are all pathetic excuses. The facts are, I have two WIPs on the go (actually three, since I've decided to get back to the second Shara Summers book - but more about that at a later date) and I've not done any work on any of them for weeks.
In the meantime, my last new release was over a year ago, I have no new books out in the foreseeable future and the book-buying public has a very short memory. Sitting about feeling sorry for myself will not get any books finished. It's time to give myself a kick up the backside.
There are no more excuses. Writing is about discipline, about getting it done, about putting in the hours for word counts and the promotion. I'm leaving this pity party now. I've got books to write.