I was warned. By the lovely Delia Sherman, no less, who has a Ph.D. in Renaissance Studies, and so who knows from post-doctoral mush-brainedness. She told me that I would be exhausted after I defended, and that this was normal, and gave me some hints on how to get through that.
I just wasn't expecting it to last this long. I spent most of the first week after in a semi-fugue state, staring at shiny things for hours, rousing myself only long enough to watch both seasons of Chuck.
This past week, I attempted a short story. And I have about three thousand words what are masquerading as one, but I don't know what I think about it yet, and even getting to that point was exhausting.
But I think there's hope. A couple of days ago I printed out one of my Clarion application stories, "The Language of the Angels," the one Kelly Link told me was actually a novel. I read it over, made some notes, and started letting it cook at the back of my brain. And this morning, I had a couple of Important Insights about scenes and character. Just a bit ago, while making a pot of coffee, I got the first line: "I had the music up loud, and so I didn't hear the Devil, the first time he knocked on my door."
Ladies and gentlemen, I think I might be back.