All right I am back. My mind is hollow in regards to writing fiction. More like a balloon tethered to a string, floating and bopping occasionally. It seems my writing mojo had taken a vacation, or moonlighting in strip bar where the horn dogs congregate.
I have been sitting here by my keyboards. While my mind is twiddling it thumbs. Whether or not allowing the words to flow from finger tips to a blank document.
It will come back to me. Like riding a bike.
They say, “That writing can sometimes lead a person to wits end.”