Like a freaking tombstone (a round one), crushing the will to write. Exhaustion seems to be the main culprit, oh, and that life-thief called Time. I have all kinds of story ideas passing through my grey matter, but none of it makes it out the tips of my aging fingers. They connect to the keyboard (so often I’ve erased the E, L, and N key faces), but nothing useful escapes. It’s all tweets and moans. Fortunately I’m not the only one for whom productivity levels are less than desired. The two forthcoming anthologies containing my stories ‘Chronicle Child’ (LMT Eighty-Nine) and ‘The Brewer’s Son’ (Stories for Japan – New Sun Rising) are delayed…hopefully for not too long…but long enough that I can still look forward to seeing my name in print (I’m not discerning paper from digital anymore) twice over before the year’s end. Perhaps then I can settle into my creative grave in comfort…or, like Lazarus, live to see/write another day.