Am I really THAT Predictable?

So . . .
I'm not completely back in the writing saddle yet, but I'm brushing the horse down and tightening the straps. I've been slowly trying to turn my spare mind-power towards my WIP. And just writing in general. I'm more on the general, universal stuff at the moment. I've gone back and read a lot of my old stuff - just for fun. And in doing so, in a detatched way, I've discovered some sorta funny patterns. I've noticed them before with other writers, but never about myself really. It's funny how the subconscious works, yet not surprising.
Here are a few things that pop up repeatedly in my stories and bear some thematic significance or are otherwise just a common prop:

A rusty old pickup. - I think I've mentioned that my dad has always had one. I guess they must symbolize something to me. *scratches head*

A necklace. - This is a little too easy - a charmed necklace, or a piece of gifted jewelry used as a prop to bring memories to the surface, blah, blah. I'm going to have to expand my reperatoire here.

Car chases and/or accidents. - I think this is because I am afraid of car crashes and hence, really high speeds.

Claustraphobic instances. - I guess to me, being too cramped to move just amps up the panic factor. *shrugs*

Grey eyes. - Do they exist in nature? I can't tell ya. But I in my worlds, grey eyes is a fairly prominent genetic allele. Heh.

Kendo. - I'm sorry, I just think sword-wielding with style (no, I'm not talking about fencing) is hawt.

Rain. - I'm sure you can figure it out. (Hint: Gwen lives in Seattle)

Dreams. - I know it's cliche. *sigh* I have a hard time getting away from dreams though. What are the alternatives? How else do you set up people meeting before they actually meet, or rationalize someone turning down a road they normally wouldn't, or, or . . . *sigh* I know. I know. I know.

Auras. - Almost as bad as the dreams. But . . . I like the idea of using colors to interpret other character's moods. It's quick, and once the audience gets the drift, it's like . . . a shortcut. Right?

What do these things say about me? Is my imagination too limited? I'm too narrow-minded? Or maybe just overly analytical. Hmm... How about you - do you have any commonalities in your writing? Notice them in your reading? Think about it for a minute.

My other question is - is this a *bad* thing - or is it sorta cool? I mean, only people who had read everything I've written would notice. In a way - it would just be between me and them. I'm leaning towards cool . . .

Unwillingly Dammed

MISSING MY WIP

I'll try to make this post more ponderous and less whiny, but I can't make any guarantees to that effect. As you can probably tell, my blogging has been non-existent lately. That's fitting in right along with all other forms of writing. The honest-to-goodness truth, not an excuse but a reason, is simply this: I haven't had the time.

I'm the sort of person who over-extends herself on a regular basis. Being short on time is something I'm used to. Being under a deadline? No problem. Having lots of work piled up on me? Yeah, that's old hat. Running a website, two and a half blogs and a forum in addition to twittering and poking my nose in various cyber-spaces? Well... yeah.

But somehow, my firm purchase on the actual work of writing (the art of applying but to chair and fingers to keyboard) has slid towards non-existent. I'm chewing through lots of books on the bus ride to and from my new job - but that is really just making my hunkering to write even worse. And here comes the whining...

A lot of writers complain that they sit down and the words won't come. Or that they find themselves shuffling writing to the bottom of their list and making excuses *not* to do it. At the moment, I envy those writers. If I had the time to talk myself out of writing . . . well, I'd be writing. Sadly, my case is something else entirely. The words are there. The ideas are flowing. They are just piling up behind the dam built by my brain in order to let me deal with the more pertinent issue of . . . well, survival. (At the moment.) I have so much work to do, I can't even allow myself to dawdle in my make believe worlds, or to ponder characters or stories, or anything. I'm effectively cut-off from my creative flow. And not by choice. It's like a forced block. And it's frustrating as hell.

It comes down to this: I miss my WIP. I *WANT* to dive into it, to finish the story of the people I've come to care deeply about in the past months. I *WANT* to add in my new ideas, and yes, yes - even to trudge through edits because I know the editing process inside-out now and know that the end-product will be more than worth it. But . . . woe is me . . . I can't do that. Yet.

Soon. Soon, I keep telling myself. I miss all of you guys too - if there is anyone out there still reading this. I'll say the same to you. Soon I will be filling your head with fluff, or maybe even something more substantial, telling your what I've read and what I thought, expanding my reperatoire of writing-issues, finally tackling the projects I've been talking 'bout for months, and generally poking my nose in your business again. Soon.

Signed,
Unwillingly Dammed Writer

Where am I?

Somewhere between the edge of sanity and the end of reason . . .

I'm a total slacker! Bad Gwen! Bad!

*sigh*

But really, my life is still just in a topsy-turvy uproar, and though I've been reading a lot, I haven't had time to write reviews, or commit anything substantial to my WIPs. My current design project is up next Wednesday, and once the dust settles, I'll re-evaluate.

Currently, I'm reading the MacCarrick Brothers trilogy by Kresley Cole. I'm liking it. Not sure if that is opening the door to historicals for me, or simply because I love her voice so much.

Not much happening on the writing front. I'm not at a standstill idea wise, but just haven't logged the keyboard time I need to get them out. I still have lots of feelers out there, which I'm waiting to hear back on. And I'm toying with the idea of entering the Golden Heart.

Thus far . . . I have resisted the Red Bull. I think I may have finally conquered that demon! Woot!