I've Lost My Whistle

So, I lost my whistle. Huh? My son, 8, came to me the other day, trying desperately to whistle (something he taught himself several months ago). All he was getting this time, however, was air. Not loud, shrilly air, either. Dead, gust of wind air. Poor kid. He tells me, "Mommy, I lost my whistle." (can you tell why I love him so much?)

After I chuckled my expanding booty off, I quietly tucked those words into my Mommy Memory Bank and went about my day.

What does this have to do with anything? Well.... I'VE lost my whistle. I haven't done any new work on my second, contracted story in a couple of weeks. I was on a roll, loving rereading the story I'd written two years ago, adding fresh elements to it. I don't dread going back to it. I actually look forward to "getting time in" each night. But then night comes, I sit on my patio with the best of intentions, and.... lose the whistle.

I'm quite certain that, to get it back, I'll only need to work on another chapter. But how do you get to that chapter when you can't find the willpower to stop doing what you're enjoying (time-killers) and get to work. I know, I know. Just do it. I have a pretty long deadline before this book is due at the publisher, and I think that has a lot to do with it. I like a deadline. I like KNOWING if I don't sit down and write, I'm in trouble. Having so much time between now and my deadline of 12-1-06 means I get to kill a lot of time. It's a wrapped reason for procrastination I suppose.

Anyway, if anyone has seen a shiny blue whistle laying around, give me a yell. Will let you all know when and where I find it again.