Significant, alarming, and humiliating productivity slump

Okay, so there I was, sitting proudly atop a second finished novel (at least to first-draft stage), thinking, Wow, isn't this great, most people don't ever even finish one novel and here I am with two, I'm so cool, I'm so productive, now let me get to work on the dozen other projects that have been waiting for this moment.

Well, a week has gone by and I've written a grand total of — let's check the wordcount log, hmmm — 1,300 words. In six days (to be precise). That, to put it in the vernacular, sucks. Is it that my story synapses are in recovery phase? Is it that I'm just bone lazy? Evidence suggests the latter.

The good news is, I've gotten caught up on a lot of other things: State Emergency Service business, critiquing stories for friends, doing the dishes on a regular basis, finishing learning the purple-belt form at my karate school, going to the archery range, making the religious observances incumbent upon me at this time of year. The bad news is there's no denying that 1,300 words a week make me so not Ms. Professional Writer. I've got to start cranking out more words. It's not that I don't like what I'm writing; I do. (Even if nobody who's prepared to sign a check agrees at the moment.) In fact, the story I'm currently working on is heaps of fun. I just, well, I'm...uh...it's — I'm bone lazy.