The pressure is all mine.

I've taken a few days off from writing.  My family is in town.  I was not feeling the re-writing, so I just backed off.

A few days go by and I'm very relaxed.

And it occurs to me that all the writing pressure is self-induced.  No one is clamoring for more books.

I think I just feel like this is the time, that I need to do it, that I'm on a roll, that I've got time to make up, that time is passing quickly. 

So I engender a pressure on myself that feels very real.  Making deadlines, wanting to finish, wanting to get books ready to be edited, and so on.

Because I've got some time before I get Faerylander back from the editor, and because I want The Dead Spend No Gold to gain some seasoning, I can now plunge into yet another new book.

I'm thinking it will probably be Ghostlander, though I thought that last time too, and then suddenly had an idea for a sequel to Led to the Slaughter.

Once I actually start writing Ghostlander, the pressure will be back on -- both because the pressure is needed to get it done, but also -- well, the pressure is real because once I immerse myself in a story, it's important that I finish it.

So back to the writing, probably this coming weekend.