Dear Walt,

I can’t recall the title of the third Icefall book. The second I know, and I remember the third title was longer because I wondered if it would fit on the cover… Wait! I think we did a cover mockup with the title. I’m off to look… Yes! Of course! You came up with something so perfect, how could I forget?

I woke early this morning to take headache meds as I was feeling a bit sick. I’m good now, and the sun is out, and that helps so much. You know me and the sun. Sun and temperature. I live on the Gulf Coast for a reason. I don’t do gloom and cold and we’ve had that for a week. At least the days are growing longer now.

I suppose it was best to suffer the depressing freeze during the early days of mourning. I wonder once I pick up your ashes if I’ll be able to close the door on the worst of the grief. I’m tired of being so miserably sad and plagued with physical hurt and caught between all I need to do and not giving a crap.

I was thinking over coffee that I do best when busy. I have taxes to do so that should occupy me for a bit. And I really really do want to write. Maybe if the sun continues to shine as the forecast has promised I can make progress on some front. Even if it’s just jotting down ideas, or journaling, or continuing my letters to you. I never thought I’d write more than the first one.

I laughed when I read the blog post I wrote here with my 2017 writing resolutions. I have no clue what any of those projects were. Last year was a twelve-month mess of starting and stopping as I tried to find my writing footing. I don’t know what happened to so completely derail me.

It’s not as if I don’t have ideas. Some germs, some fully developed series concepts. I worked every day. I spent hours with words. But I got nowhere. Even when you helped me brainstorm sticky spots, I couldn’t transition from planning to execution. I know that disappointed you.

I’m so sorry I disappointed you.

We were very different writers. You were a left-brained scientist and your approach was… scientific. You thought you could reason away my despair, logically argue away my block. But then you were a problem solver. I love that you tried. And that you tried because you loved me. That’s what I need to focus on, having you with me as I push through to find what I lost. I will find what I lost. I will find my way back.