burnt, crispy, fried writer

Welp...it happened.

I am burnt out. I have this great space to write in, and the words just won't flow. For the first time since March 2018, I won't have a book for the next month. I have one coming in July, but it's part of a boxed set (the Pets for Vets.) Beyond that, I have no idea what I'll do.

Putting those words in a sentence and giving them voice, makes me feel like a failure. I just don't know any other way to say it, though. I thought having quiet space would help, but as I sit here, trying to think of a plot for a novel, I've got nothing. 

I don't even know how to pray for this. Do I sit still and try to listen to what God wants? Do I forge on, putting words on a screen that feel forced and choppy? How do I fill a creativity well when it feels like the bottom has dropped out and it's perpetually empty no matter what I try to fill it with? 

All these questions, and I have no answers. I'm sorry for no new book next month. I'm hoping that an idea hits and the words will just pour out. Until then...I don't know what to do. Cry? Eat chocolate? Both? Maybe. Probably. 
If you're feeling the way I am about your situation, I hope you find peace. I wouldn't wish this feeling of defeat on anyone. 
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All right. I've whined enough. You all have a great weekend.  If you are struggling, I hope by the time Monday peeks over the horizon, you've got a game plan. I'll hold out that hope too and maybe we can all celebrate.