The real reason you're stuck

I wasted SO MUCH time before I realized this.

Last weekend I held a writing retreat in the Hudson Valley, and the six authors who showed up knocked me flat with their talent and creativity. Our post-election weekend was energizing and productive, both a solid distraction and a shot in the arm.

Beneath all the exhilarating connection, though, I was panicked: Now that my fifth book, The Last Ferry Out, has gone off to production, it’s time to pitch my sixth, and while I’ve been carrying around the same high-concept hook since (checks notes) 2018, and my agent liked it when I pitched it verbally and all I had to do was shape some kind of story around it, I felt…stuck. Trapped.

TFW the idea EXISTS but it’s somewhere on the other side of an impenetrable fence. (Photo by Bob Ward)

And like, c’mon. Six years of mulling over this idea, and I’ve got nothing? Five books on the, uh, books and I still don’t know where to start? What kind of teacher am I, I thought, if I can’t even sketch out the basics of a thriller idea?

And then…I did something uncomfortable. Selfish. Brave, even.