For one reason or another, I've found it incredibly difficult to pump out any fiction in the past three or four month. I find this intolerable.
Of course, I have excuses. The Spring semester wasn't particularly easy and required my undivided attention, which limited my output to two or three stories (whereas in the fall semester I finished a story every week). I didn't have much chance between semesters to get anything written either. My Summer A session at UNF lasted a whopping 6 weeks. Think about that, a semester's worth of material crammed into a six week period. Now quadruple the amount of work, because I took four history classes simultaneously. My brightest move? No. But I would like to graduate sometime in my life. I devoted myself to that schoolwork and was earned an A in each class.
But now that that semester is over, I have the freedom to write again. Yet I haven't turned up anything more than fragments and beginnings of stories.
Now, I know why.
Sometime during these past semesters, I stopped writing and started to plan to write. The difference is somewhat difficult to explain. Instead of starting with an idea and letting it run wild with pen to paper, I started trying to plan my stories ahead of time, dictating beginnings, middles and ends before I'd even written any of it.
Apparently, I cannot write this way.
This is a major revelation for me. I simply cannot have a clear idea of story, characters, descriptions, or anything for me to able to write, I have to just make it up as I go. Maybe someday that'll change. I'd like to write a book at some point, but for now I'm avoiding that pitfall and sticking with short fiction.
The bottom line for me is, that writing isn't akin to planning skills and time management. It's an art akin to improvisation.