Strange times. 

Writing Russian Redemption was surprisingly easy - a bold statement perhaps but for me it seemed I was just watching a movie in my head, trying to capture what I saw in words. The 'tap' of inspiration flowed full on, it gushed. Then a few months ago, for personal reasons, I took my proverbial cup away from the flow, unplugged my brain from the personal theatre where I had watched Russian Redemption unfold. 

Now is the time to return to the fountain of stories, to sit in the figure hugging, row D, seat 16 of the personal cinema that exists inside my head and see what happens.

It's been a bit strange, a little frustrating but progress is being made.

Naively I think I expected to be able to return to said watering hole at any time to find the faucet still pouring ideas, but it had ran dry, been turned off. The surprise for me was that I wasn't surprised. The thought process was more about how to get it flowing again; I think I knew that I was fooling myself with my expectations.

So, where am I with this and how did I get there?

I tried forcing some script, taking a a random idea and exploring it's potential as the route of a storyline. It only took a few thousand words to realise that these were generally 'non-runners', but I persevered. I would often visit the 'tap' to see if there was any indication of restored flow, stick my head around the cinema door to see if there was anything on the screen. It's been five or six weeks now and what started as an occasional droplet has become a regular dribble of inspiration; all that was written in the 'drought' has been destroyed, unfit for human consumption. I'm looking to Russian Redemption, The follow on, with renewed vigour. The story map is not perfect yet but I'm still operating from a 'dribble', once the idea's flow as freely as they have in the past I know I'll be back on track. 

I certainly wouldn't describe this phase as 'writers block', more of a temporary cessation of connection; remember it was my choice to leave the oasis of idea's. It's almost like I have to build the relationship again, earn the right to consume the inspiration - it sounds bizarre but that's honestly how it feels. 

So, I'm guessing that a few of you now have me pigeon holed in the 'lunatic' box, and I probably wouldn't blame you, but that's the risk when trying to explain or convey the thoughts of this writer. 
Some of you may be able to relate to this 'phase' of an authors development more than others. It never occurred to me to give up, it's not that dramatic, it was always about achieving a balance - life - writing - work, not there yet but I'm working on it. 

As a person, this is also an adventure of discovery. At the ripe old age of 51 writing has brought me a interactive methodology to discover more about myself and to push myself. Fated Encounters is an excellent example of this; there is no way I would of contemplated opening my Pandora's box, acknowledging (even advertising) personal weaknesses. Writing allows me to not only reveal those 'demons' but also face them, challenge them and ultimately conquer them: I never expected that. 

Anyway, that's where I'm at right now so I'm looking forward to the future; just the thought of it makes my heart burp happy bubbles. :-)