One big project is drafted. Revisions and packaging lie in the immediate future. My brain continues to formulate new stories, so I pick one to start on. There's outlining and research to be done. The various stages of the creative process swim along.
But what's missing is actual writing, the daily production of prose. After I'd drafted my first novel, it took months to get back into that phase because of the needs of planning the new thing before writing it. Do those synapses crystalize with disuse over time, or will they stay oiled and retain the heat of experience?
Many writers write something, anything, every day, just for the sake of exercise. My attempts at that have left me disgusted by insufficient quality and longing for real, goal-oriented writing.