Or should that be a wooshing sound?
It’s time to acknowledge that you can’t set a deadline when you don’t know what you’re going to find. Or at least, that’s true for me. For instance, the story I’m officially working on got weirder and weirder the more I delved into it. I managed to get to a promising draft, but then Readercon and the Hugo readings made it hard for me to do more than poke at it. So I’m declaring that was the fallow period, and the fallow period is over. Time to pick it up again.
And finish it.