Cabin Fever. I has it.

I live on a freaking tropical island, spitting distance from eleventy billion beaches, and I've barely left the house in the last three weeks.

I know, I know. WTF.

Okay, there's actually a legitimate reason for this. A few, for that matter. For one, the stopping bits on our hoopty ride were getting alarmingly loud...and ineffective. So, the car was designated for necessary use only until we got the brakes fixed, which we did last week. Second, the hoopty ride requires a certain amount of fuel to run it, and we didn't want to use excessive amounts of said fuel because that was tapping into the "pay to fix the brakes" fund.

Oh, and it's been raining. A lot.

But now, the brakes are fixed, the clouds have parted, the gas gnomes have magically filled the tank, and tomorrow? We're going to the beach. Hallelujah, I'm getting out of the house and going somewhere other than the commissary. Expect copious photographic evidence of this rare excursion beyond the gates of housing.

And I think this is a significant part of why I'm in a bit of a writing funk...I've been sitting in the same chair, at the same computer, staring out the same window, watching the same neighbors have affairs with- er, ahem, I mean...anyway, you get the idea. Fresh air, fresh scenery, and perhaps a close encounter with a box jellyfish (which are currently swarming) should be just the ticket to get me writing again. Unless I have a too close encounter with said jellyfish, in which case writing will be on hold until I stop wishing I was dead (or being dead, whichever comes first).

In other news, I have actually been putting some effort into updating my other blogs. My romance blog is a bit quiet at the moment, but I have graced you all with a ramble about why I write in a certain genre on my erotica blog. All disclaimers about subject matter and content should be unnecessary, given the title of said blog.

Oh, and you should all go tromping over to Scarlett's blog and cheer her the hell on because she is THISCLOSE to finishing her second novel. I believe she is a chapter and an epilogue away from the end...almost there!

To encourage her (or perhaps distract her), how about a little bit of James "why yes I am that hot" Purefoy:
And this one is especially for Libbie, as a way of kissing her ass because she's currently critting The Best Man...
Tomorrow? Beach pictures. Rejoice, all of you.