It's been an interesting last couple of weeks. I'm steeling myself for the inevitable latest wave of intolerance, and I find myself waffling between working on an idea for a fun cozy mystery series that I've had for years. But then my muse decides to dump stupidly poignent lines of dialog that would allow me to write out all my pain and fears in a new series. With veiled themes and lots of metaphores that readers can argue. Either would be a new path for me. And I'm unsure how to proceed.