Last weekend, I finished the 5th book in The Green Man Series. Is the story finished?

When the world is dark and quiet, and everyone is asleep, you lie there, jealous of the sounds of the sleeping humans and animals near you. In some ways, you feel lucky to enjoy the peace and solitude of the night. But, you know, later in the day, the gritty eyes, the fatigue, and no time to rest will strike a negative chord in the day.

One of the great pleasures during my career as a librarian and also as a writer is researching. Since the advent of the internet (and yes, I am that old) is that one can spend many an hour wiling away the time by searching and researching a topic of choice. It’s an amazing gift when insomnia wiles its way into the night or if a sliver of interest in something leads me on a merry chase to find more information.

When I am deep inside writing a book, I liken it to being underwater in the deep, deep end of the pool. I struggle to come up for air, but I’m not drowning.

Yes. It’s a thing. Writer’s block. But it’s not really a block where everything stops. The author knows the story. It’s there, inside their head and inside their heart. But, sometimes, when we type, an icy death ray freezes our fingers from moving, and our mind goes blank—writer’s block.