No second line has come to me. I have no desire to find one.
I thought about going back to writing YAs. My agent has suggested it and so have friends. I’ve published 5. But the thing is that would require writing.
I did have a heady moment when I thought it would be okay to write one with another person. And then the idea deflated like a sick balloon.
Since then (about a week ago) I’ve felt hostile toward the act of writing.
Worse than that is that I can’t read. I start something and then I put it down. I’ve had periods like this before but somehow this one is making me mad. Everything is making me mad.