I took one final day yesterday to relax from the stresses of life, the dayjob, and my writing. I know what most writers say about needing to write every single day and the thing is, I agree 100%. It's just that I've come to the realization that I can't do it. I should, and I should keep working toward that. But if I treat writing like another job, then like any other job, I need a break.
Yesterday was the third and final day of the annual summer festival. Whereas Saturday was sunny and hot, almost to the point where I was worried about heat stroke, Sunday was gray, drizzling at times, and about 20 degrees cooler. I thought all I needed was a thicker polo shirt, but I was wrong. Still, some hot chocolate warmed me up enough to enjoy what I saw: People dancing to a circle of drummers, folks doing Yoga in the cold, and a local group of bagpipers which includes a sci-fi writer who is a frequent contributor to Analog as well as Asimov's Science Fiction and other places.
If nothing else, I've got a third day's worth of potential character sketches, here.
Now, I'm getting slowly back on the wagon. I'm finally getting the first draft of my story for Rigor Amortis together, building it around the skeleton of an unrelated flash fiction I wrote about 6 or 8 months ago. I figure if Carol Emshwiller can include "Acceptance Speech" and "Report to the Men's Club" in the same collection, then I can make a story "the same, but different" than one I've previously written (not that I'm 1/10th of the writer she is, but still).