My husband, bless his heart, exemplifies what people seem to think when they hear that I'm a writer and a teacher.
"You have the whole summer off!" he extols. "Think of all the writing you can get done!"
Yes, just think of it. A whole summer, like one ginormous blank page, just waiting to be written on.
I find it absolutely terrifying.
So far, I've revisited my folder of works-in-progress... tweaked one here, adjusted another there, added a bit to a third, and reread most of my WIP collection, both the cringe-worthy and those full of potential.
But so far, I haven't written anything new.
I want to write. I want to be prolific, a beloved author of children's books like my idol Jane Yolen, who could fill an entire bookshelf with her published work. I want to crank those manuscripts out, so that the downtime between publication and my next book is short and sweet.
But first, I need to figure out what to write about.