I learned a trick to make myself write when I'm on vacation. I didn't bring my manuscript, which would have involved hauling along a lot of paper -- not just 250 pages of the manuscript, but also a critique from a writer friend. Instead, I decided to start an essay, and I told myself each morning that I didn't have to sell it. Didn't even have to show it to anyone.
And you know what? Writing didn't seem like work anymore. It seemed like this really fun thing I was doing every morning before I went to the beach.
This week I went back to the manuscript and got a lot done. I'm a third into what I hope is the final, final draft. Already new ideas for books are percolating -- a sure sign its time to move on.
After five weeks, I've gotten better about not checking the Internet in the morning, but I can revert to compulsive behavior later in the day. I'll have to devise a challenge for that someday.