I’ve been sleeping poorly the last few weeks. ¬†Combination of things, including indulging in coffee too late in the day. Note to self: Noon is the cut off…no matter how appealing that lovely cup of Joe is calling.

Last night, eyes popped open at 1 a.m. I hate to get up when I can’t sleep because there’s that slight hint of exhaustion that I don’t want to give up on. What if I fall asleep now? Or now? Or now? It’s a conundrum. Laying awake while still tired fans my Apache rage. The Beard’s every little movement, snort or snore irritates me. The writing staff sleeps in our room….all snore, snort or squeak. When I’m sleeping, it’s a non-issue….most of the time.

To drown out the raging Native American in me, I concentrated on story lines. It’s no secret that my personal life has been overriding my writing life. The progress on three novels has stalled. I used the time to walk around in a couple of my stories. I don’t know if other writers do this, but I build my world in my head and move around in it. I look at settings. I walk through story lines I’ve already written and I examine characters. Even if I’m stuck ¬†in a story, I don’t mind traveling territory I’ve already walked.

Sometimes, like last night or rather early this morning, I broke through the wall and found forward momentum in the story. I also found a completely new story in a closet. I didn’t get up to write….it might have been helpful because once I made progress and mapped out the new story….I was tired again. The two hours of sleep I fell into didn’t help my groggy, foggy brain this morning, but I’m writing.