I have officially entered the horrible world of Writer's Block.
Sure, I pushed on through it whilst writing the first novel but with this second novel - Deluge - it seems to be back with a vengeance. The confusing part is that I know roughly where I'd like the story to go, but it's the getting there that's the tricky bit. The plan is laid out, everything is seemingly in place and raring to go... yet it's struggling to even move.
Maybe it's the heat of the day, maybe it's trying to write whilst holding down a full-time job... or maybe it's because every time I settle down to start writing the cats both decide that's also the perfect time for them to go mental. After charging at each other sideways like energetic crabs, tails as thick as salamis, they think it's great fun to run relay races back and forth across the back of the couch and along the window sill (regardless of the fact that we're three floors up!). Then after exhausting themselves the little girl settles in to pine over the birds and squirrels she can see running around outside whilst the little boy is contented to nuzzle up against my leg and affectionately chew on my foot.
With my attention well and truly divided, the evil Writer's Block relishes once again in his triumph. Damn.