The situation has become dire. The plot-constructing muscles in my head have become flabby and indifferent. I needed hard motivation to focus and force myself to analyse what makes a story work. I need to be able to articulate an argument again. (I've said for years, a story is an argument, and if you can't structure one, you can't do the other, either.)
So I rejoined Critters.org. Read two stories already. Remembering, suddenly, how easy it is to say, "Lame!" and move on. A good deal harder to say why, and what to do about it.
Sigh. And as I'm writing this, I abruptly remembered I still have AJ's novel to finish. It's under a bag of also-forgotten knitting on the end table where I store stuff that's too important to go in the basement, but not current enough to go on my desk or workbench. Sorry AJ, we've both been so occupied lately....
Sigh. This feels like getting back into the gym after you've had the flu.