Post-publication exhaustion…and recovery

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I'm not one for scented candles and long soaks in the bath though...

Having just uploaded and set up my latest release on the various sites I use for self-publishing, I must admit to feeling a little wishy-washy. It took me until 4.30am, and I slept well but was plagued by anxiety dreams once I went to bed. In fact I almost fell out of bed dreaming I’d slipped on the kitchen step. I’d been feeling really quite ropey just lately, run down and tired, beyond tired, not sleeping and feeling mentally confused and ‘full’, like I couldn’t take in another K of information. I must admit there were several times over the last week when I thought I couldn’t do it, that I’d never make it. That was Sunday.

On Monday I felt as if I was in a daze. A bit limp and like yesterday’s leftover lettuce. It took me about two days to feel that sense of relief and accomplishment that means I did the best I could and completed the goal I set myself, and that I’m pleased with my achievement.

Since then I’ve done very little: some editing for a client, a bit of this, a bit of that, I’ve rewritten a short story. Some retail therapy. I’ve finished my puzzle book. I’ve started washing the curtains. I feel like I’m ready to begin the cycle again. I recognise the symptoms: a vague kind of restless fidgety feeling; a need to keep my notebook and pen by my side, even though I haven’t actually thought of anything to write. A desire to read some Goethe. In English, sorry, my German is too rusty to read it in the original as I once did. Iphigenia auf Tauris. I have a strong sense of something is approaching, something nebulous, something on the periphery. I can’t see it with my physical eyes, but I feel it drawing me. Tonight I have a desire to research poisons. I hear little snippets of dialogue coming to me as if voices in another part of the house, and I have an urge to look at country manors on the Internet for possible settings. I’m thinking of insanity and inheritance, of dastardly deeds and clues.

And all this can only mean one thing.

An idea is brewing…

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