I can't hear the voices that usually talk to me when I'm doing dishes or walking the dog or folding laundry. This isn't a good thing. The voices I hear are good voices -- not the kind that tell you to go out and shoot your neighbors. Mine are the voices of the characters in the piece I'm writing: Mariah, Kaylyn, Eliot, Nash, Louisa and Albert to name a few of them. And they are all silent at the moment.
I can't get Kaylyn and her boyfriend off the sofa in Mariah's apartment in Manhattan. They're stuck there. I don't know where they go next. They haven't "told" me. I can't seem to get them to tell me.
Maybe going to my writing group this morning will help. I'd really like to go to the bus station instead and buy a ticket to New York City, spend a day wandering around imagining all the things my characters might want to do, and then come home again. I'm certain I'd know what to write then. But....that's not going to happen anytime soon. Because there's dishes to do and a dog to walk and laundry to fold. And if those voices would just come back, it'd all be so much easier to handle.