I finished the prologue to Disciple on the 2nd, which right now is five days ago. Withdrawal is setting in.
LOL, writing withdrawal, how amusing...
I'm a night-time writer. I get in my words, post them on Twitter, check an email box or two, and go to bed. The night I finished, it had not been much work to do. That very night, I had a dream. A significant dream? No. But when I'm writing, I don't dream at all -- or, at least, I never remember dreaming.
After a few days (that would be starting last night) I start having trouble falling asleep. My brain sits there babbling at me nonstop, if I haven't tired it out enough. There are options, of course, but writing is my poison of choice.
And then there's... the darkness. The ruminating. Circling around my various websites, desperate for a distraction. Running in circles like a rat in a small cage, feeling the wire mesh against my skin. All the claustrophobic angst of that moment in LOTR when Gandalf reads from the journal in Balin's tomb: We cannot get out. They are coming.
Side note: I'm titling the prologue Fire's First Kiss. It was either that or Vomit's First Heave, which I suspect would not work in its favor. My first impression is that it might be a bit too graphic -- which might sound unlikely to some people, but... well, Kate's in a battlefield surgery, Kiefan's leading a cavalry charge, and Anders is in full bad-boy mode. We'll see how it looks after a few weeks of cooling down.