Crossroads.

As I always do after finishing a major project, I find myself standing at a crossroads with a dozen options stretching in all directions, unsure which way I want to go. I’ve had my downtime, remembered that I do have other fun interests beyond writing (“Make it so!”), and now that I’m refreshed and relaxed I’d like to get back to work.

But on what?

Rewrite’s done; so is the synopsis and the tweaked version of the query letter, and on January 4th (when the publishing industry wakes up again) I’ll likely start querying again. I could start revamping the sequel to go with the new storyline, but why? There’s no point until I’m sure the first will sell. So I have a few choices:

1. Waking Magic, also known as the crackfic. Fun, but probably a little too crazy to ever see the light of day. Plus I hit a wall, though I need to work past it sooner or later.
2. Icarus Burning, the sci-fi YA story about Gabriel.
3. The YA paranormal romance that’s puttering around the back of my mind, avoiding the light of day out of shame for what it is.
4. The YA otherworldly fantasy (not quite high fantasy, but kind of a tech-fantasy thing, non-Earth) that’s been playing at the edges of my imagination for a few days.
5. Darkling, a little middle-grade pile of cuteness that I’ve posted about on LJ but never talked about here.
6. Kowloon / Hak Nam.

Yes, there are a ton of other options, half-finished stories I’ve let stagnate over the years, concepts that ran themselves into the ground or that just never played out properly, things that were interesting at the time but are a little too dated now (like The Practical Guide to Being a Vampire – it’s funny, but I’m so tired of vampires and so is everyone else, to the point where even a mocking story playing on current tropes is still too much). But these are the ones at the front of my mind, whirling around like a merry-go-round and waiting for me to catch the ring.

I’ll figure it out. I’m probably going to reread what I have written for all of them, find the one that captures my imagination most and has the most potential, and then run with it from there.

Sometimes, though, I wish I had extra hands and extra brains so I could write four or five stories at once.

To end this on a less wistful, blah-blah-blah oh-god-not-more-pointless-talk-about-writing note, a conversation with someone in WoW the other day:

“You know, Adri, you really do have a poet’s soul.”
“Dear lord, I should hope not.”
“What? Why not?”
“What in bloody blue hell would I do with something as useless as that?”

Also, my neighbors will no longer be treated to me screeching “Jesus Christ donkeyballs!” when the broken hot water heater runs out mid-shower; landlord’s sending in the repairmen today. I’m sure parents are tired of explaining to their children what a donkey’s cojones have to do with their messiah.