It's just harder to motivate myself to rewrite. The feeling of discovery isn't there--though sometimes in the midst of doing it, something new pops up. But it's more of a chore. It has to be done.

Working on the scans of my earlier books is even harder. It has to be done. There is no fun in it.

But I need to catch up on my earlier stuff so that it isn't all wasted. I mean, they are written and they are worthy and they need some updating to make them "Live." Silly not to follow through.

So the month of June is going to be dedicated to that. Trying to get as many books cleaned up and ready to go as possible. They may not be published until next year -- though I'm contemplating putting out Star Axe and Snowcastles/Icetowers sometime this year if they don't get in the way of The Darkness You Fear and Tuskers III.

Clean all these books up, put them in the Vault, and get back to writing again.

Funny thing is--you'd think with how prolific I am that my writing is unstoppable. In fact, I'm incredibly finicky. There's a reason I didn't write for 25 years. Anything and everything can derail me, therefore I have to eliminate the possibilities of anything and everything to get it done.

Cameron called in sick yesterday, so I had to work the store just as I was super eager to get going on the rewrite of Faerylander. Fair enough, except today all the eagerness is gone.

It doesn't take much.

I'll get to it sometime today, and once started the eagerness will probably rekindle, but man, I'm off my feed.