I would have used the cliche "sleepless in Seattle" but I am not a fan of the term. Normally I sleep quite well in this bustling metropolis with the glorious mountains and gentle breeze. Tonight is still, no sirens, limited street traffic, and a stunning sunset. I cannot sleep. I am exhausted. Sleep however does not want to cozy up with me as it already has with my children. Is it wrong to be jealous of my children? I am. They are completely out, dreaming of summer vacation and, in my son's case, Cars 2.
I am sitting here pouring over my query letter, feeling a little ADD and roving over a few pages of my manuscript as well. Restless. A little warmer than I like to be and certainly wishing my good friend sleep would decide to wipe out the racing thoughts in my head - where should Kriton go next, should I use Loki instead, should I query from a different character's vantage point? The questions go on, frustratingly with few answers. That's it. That is my problem. Sleep's arch enemy - writer's block. EEK! I said it. The worst thing to happen to a writer! I was sleeping just fine when the story poured out of my head faster than my poor fingers could dictate it. Now that I am at the end, the labor-intensive editing phase (yes it is my fourth revision and yes I have added over 4,000 pages the last few days) sleep has become evasive and my characters have become invasive and demanding, not necessarily in that order.
Perhaps if I can simply purge a few of these ideas into my bedside journal my characters will be satisfied to allow sleep to fold me into her (his?) arms and take me to that place where I can dream of margaritas and fajitas on the patio of a delightful Seattle restaurant - what are the chances of that?