I have yet to find the proper method of dealing with post-book blahs. It’s been about a month since RAVENOUS went off to eat my editor, or vice versa.  Of course I want to be assured it is the most wonderfulest book ever, but on the other hand it’s kind of nice not having to look at it for a while.

Wise people would be cranking out new chapters.  That’s not me. I’ve spent the intervening time slaying an inconvenient dragon (not writing-related), so it’s not like I’ve been sitting on the back porch drinking beer.  No slacking here, but now that dragon is drake kebab, and I need to get going on the next book. I’m ready. 

Sadly, my muse is at the cleaners. Orcs in pursuit of a scorched earth policy have tramped through my brain with flame-throwers. I know what the next book is about, but my storyland still hasn’t bounced back.  I’m not shocked—this happens with every book. In a week or so, I’ll be fine. I just need some un-dragony down time, playing in the herb patch and wasting time at outdoor markets.

Which leads me to the question—does everybody feel like road kill after they finish a book and, if so, how long does it last?