There he’d been, plugging away, over 4,000 words a day, when the house he lived in was sold, with circumstances forcing his family to move out and plan for a month-long “workation” in only 5 days.
They did it, and drove south.
It was warmer than he likes in Phoenix.
He picked up a cold in Santa Barbara.
He’s generally been busy enough, disrupted enough, tired enough to stop writing for a while. Wouldn’t be entirely unreasonable, right?
One of the places Resistance shows up is at the end of a project. The last few bits, just before you light the fuse to launch it into the world’s line of sight. At this point, if you stall, you’ll never have to face rejection. “It’s not finished; how can I show it to anyone?”
A Long Hard Look is too short, not complicated enough, and not as strong as I’d like in many areas.
That bully Resistance would love me to focus on those flaws rather than reveling in the glorious realization that this is the best piece of fiction I’ve ever written.
When it’s finished.
Which it will be. Will be. Sooner than you might think.