Actively avoiding writing at the moment. Instead, I'm wandering around Skyrim and looting dwarven ruins for no very good reason. Eventually, I will get back to Blackreach and add to my alchemy ingredients. Essentially, I need to finish the game so that I can start weaning my brain off big screen virtual questing and back into old-fashioned text adventure. :) If it would cool off again and I was spending more time hiking the arboretum, that would help.
The retreat from activeness is finding its way into the short story drafts and novel drafts and all my characters are turning into giant eyeballs without any anchoring physicality.
[side note: fixed the line breaks on the blog!! hallelujah!!]
So, physicality. I have it not, at least on the page. This wrecks the emotional fabric as well since characters who aren't paying attention to their bodies aren't reacting to danger, desire, etc. Some writers may have an easier time of this while they're writing than I do, but I have a very hard time shrinking that eyeball down and getting a handle on the rest of the character. I'm sure I've mentioned the play I saw decades ago where the expectant father fantasized that his child would be born just as a single eyeball. While I can't really relate to that fear, I find that my characters often replicate it, becoming mere looking glasses over the storyscape. Mixed metaphors are also a specialty.
Endings are not.