Writer's Block

I don't believe in writer's block. Or at least, I didn't. But lately I just can't seem to get anything on paper. This past fall I finished a huge writing project that I'd been working on for two years (from research to "The End" - it's historical fiction). I also had the sweet chance to work on some new licensed character stuff, and my last deadline was December 7. Then came the holidays, or as I like to call them, the hellidays. (Not true, actually. I'm a big softie when it comes to Christmas.) And did I mention I have a 19-month-old daughter (The Bean) whirling around in there?! :-) Somehow or another I've convinced my subconscious that all of these things piled into a single psyche and whirled together like a big, fat stress smoothie allows me the luxury of writer's block.

But I don't have time for stupid writer's block. I have these three characters who've been banging around in my head for four years now, and their project is finally on the chopping block. These girls are in Etiquette School, and of course, they are the least likely charm schoolers ever. These girls WOULD NOT SHUT UP when I was working on other projects. "Pssst!" they'd whisper to me over a tedious re-write of my last book. "We're MUCH more fun that that old hag! Come over here and hang with us. We won't tell those other goody-goody characters of yours that you came by. Your secret's safe with us." Giggle-titter-sputter-giggle.

So now here I am, weeks later, desperately trying to get these girls to return my calls. Nada. Have I missed my chance at hanging out with the IN crowd? Did I pass up my shot at A-list superstardom? I certainly hope not. In the meantime, I'll keep hanging out, slurping stress smoothies, clamoring for a glimpse of these bad girls. Maybe, just maybe, they'll shoot me a dirty look soon. A girl can dream...