This is the advice I give in every blog post on writing.
Put your butt in the chair.
Open the word processor.
Turn on some hard driving music
hit keys until you produce a manuscript. If an infinite number of monkeys can do it...
Because Writers Write.
Stephan King, Neil Gaiman, Brian Keene, Elizabeth Donald and Me. We all do the same thing.
But in chair.
Fingers on keyboard.
Or sometimes not.
I've hit massive burnout after sixteen novels and 100+ short stories and two deaths in the space of nine months. Losing Mom last December is still biting me around every corner. Losing Darren... My Constant Reader is gone. I'm tap-dancing for myself again. I'm working two part time jobs and sometimes the juggling act means a 15 hour day.
So I gave myself permission.
I'm actively NOT writing. Deliberately, mindfully NOT opening my word processor for the month of January.
Instead, I'm coloring. I'm drawing (including taking a class). I'm working the day jobs. I'm knitting, I'm reading and reading and reading some more, and watching movies and TV. I'm editing audiobooks. I'm playing with kittens.
I am, in short, refilling my tank and doing some self-care. And that can be as much of a necessity as the words themselves.
But yes, writers write. Maybe not every day or even every month. But they do put the words on paper. This is the advice I always give when asked to blog about writing. The advice I will always give.
"Mood? Bah! Mood is a thing for cattle or lovemaking."
In a couple weeks, I'll plug Dragonforce back into the speakers and plunge back into the Roaring 20s with my adventurers and Rock the Casbah. (I have a short due for a rock-and-roll themed pulp anthology) But for now, no guilt over not writing.