Truth

I'm going to be honest: Writing used to be a joy and a pleasure. The little voices in my head constantly nagged at me until I TRULY felt no choice but to listen and to write their stories. My characters were my friends and my family.

Lately, I feel none of this--no joy, no pleasure, and the voices have fallen silent. It's been like this for months now. Lots of months.

It scares me a little. Am I dried up? Am I done? Am I no longer a writer? (Well, you can't be a writer unless you write, obviously, and I haven't really been doing much of that).

I thought taking a break, pulling back from the writing scene, might be what I needed. A break is good when you feel burned out, right?

Only this break seems to hanging onto me, not wanting to let go any time soon.

I need to find the joy again. I need to find the voices.

But where do I even begin to start?

This is where I am right now, taking baby steps to get out of this "funk," because this isn't a fun place to be.