The 9 to 5 reopened for the tourist season, and I’m back at work.

I’m also doing the work. Since my back gave out, writing has been difficult. Constant pain makes it hard to think. Pain meds don’t really help in that regard. I’ve tried finding different places and times to write, but I can never tell how long I have when the urge hits.

And the colder it gets, the more pain I’m in.

However, about two weeks ago, I got hit with an idea for a book. And hit hard. This is not my usual universe. There’s no magic, monsters, or hunters, but I just keep writing it. I haven’t written this much or such clarity since before my accident.

So, while I know how Chelsea’s story ends, and I can literally see the shape of it… right now, I don’t have words for her. I know the words are there. I’ve always known how it ends, I just didn’t know what road took me there. And now… now I’m waiting to find the off ramp. Truth is, this is fairly typical for me. I started writing Chelsea because I got stuck on another project. Which I did finish, eventually.

I’ll finish Chelsea, but I might have to finish this book first.

And, I’m back at physical therapy. After more than a year, I forced myself to buy a gym membership. I’m way, way too frugal not to use something I spent that much money on, and now my last excuse of “no room to move the way I need to” is gone. But this new book is also responsible for that. The need to write is so intense, that I’m wearing myself out to get it down. PT is the only way to be physically able to write more.

So, in short, no, I don’t know when I’ll get to writing Chelsea. But I am writing. And a lot, with much enthusiasm. I’m also taking care of myself physically, like I need to.

Please keep the faith. We’re almost at the end. I just need to take care of myself a little bit longer.