I have a period of time (period of mood?) when I've finished intensively working on one project and haven't really moved on to the next. The Last Song has finished 5 rounds of editing/drafting/deleting/writing from me and is now, electronically, in the hands of two readers. I have mentioned before, I am not the "did you read it yet? did you read it yet?" writer, and hope to never be. That's a great way to drive one's friends away, and I'm great at doing that to begin with.
So. I haven't yet settled on what I'm doing next. I haven't completed Esto Quod Es (the April 2014 novel) to "The End" yet, but I feel like it isn't done percolating yet.
I've got a short story I wrote in July that I should probably read again, to see if it actually works. If it does, I should figure out where to start sending it.
I'm number 60 in the queue for my F&SF electronic submission. It's a blessing and a curse to know where you are in line, something I've discovered while submitting to Clarkesworld.
So I've got that feeling, you know, when you're hungry and you don't know what to eat? So you circulate in the kitchen, open a cabinet or two, go through the fridge. That's how I feel about writing right this second. I look at the files I have, read some articles, mentally comb through my ideas. Is it time yet for the biker novel? The bitcoin one? Space? I don't know. Maybe I need to finish an existing short story, to add something else to my small bundle of offerings. Maybe I need to do this week's Chuck Wendig challenge (though I won't, because I'm pretty sure next week's challenge is to pick somebody's beginning and write the end, and I don't want to do that). Maybe I need to write the next installment of Klara.
Or maybe I need to read (perhaps the "ordering of takeout" equivalent in my prior metaphor). I'm currently reading Wild Thing: A Novel, by Josh Bazell, which has been quite amusing (apparently it's a sequel. Ah well).
What do you do, when you're between projects?