The house is quiet. The kids whereabouts are unknown, the dog is asleep and my husband is out doing errands. I am at a loss of what to do with myself. Should I begin the sequel to Dancing Above the Moon? Finish another short story? Edit a nonfiction book I wrote ten years ago, which my husband made me promise to publish? Or wait a few more days for another editor to finish carving up Dancing Above the Moon’s 90,000 plus word count? (Is it true longer books are out of style?) Am I indecisive or procrastinating?