P(r)ep talk

It took me some time to realize that last week's post had no mention of what I was writing, or preparing to. I had the same revelation that I did last night to hear of another author's experience at Dragon Con, the meeting, the greeting, and the et cetera.

And things aren't getting much better. As I mentioned months back, the structure of my urban fantasy series is somewhat odd. The first book has three main characters, and the sequels, which occur at the same time, take place in different places. You could say the first book has three sequels (and each of those has its own sequel as well, preceding the grand finale where everyone is back together again, comprising a crystal structure to the series). I was finally able to explain this to someone at the publisher that put out the first novel, and they were very open about letting me publish the first sequels in rapid succession. I was a bit glad. That is, until I went to last night's meeting.

"Three books in one year is a lot of work" another, more knowledgeable writer told me. And she's right, I realized. If one does their due diligence, with the book signings and marketing and promoting, then with three books that's triple the work. Part of me wants to take a step back and try something else, but at the same time, the reason I'm in this mess in the first place is because I tried my best to tell the story the best way. I didn't write the characters into a happy reunion or contrive some way for the setting to stay the same. What happened is what I felt the story "needed" so now, for things to make the most sense, it would work best if they came out as closely together as possible. If that takes a lot of work then I guess I have a lot of work to give.

But I was talking of the actual activity of writing. I'm almost done reading the second fantasy novel so I will be in the proper mind to commit to the third. Distractions abound, of course, but ideas are percolating, too. It's taken a while to return to me, but slowly, slowly that feeling is returning. The one where ideas bubble up and brim over too fast for me to write them down. I'm excited and driven and all I really have to do is plan the outline, then make the effort to seclude myself and let the words come. Thinking back, I guess I assumed this would all happen faster. I wanted to finish the book by the new year, which would give me four books in twelve months. But I guess it doesn't so much matter when I cross the finish line, but that I cross it. To that end, I have another short story I want to work out, and some more submitting to do (never did get back on the "let's find an agent" train).

While clocking out today, my boss asked about the sequel, and I told her it was already written, among others. She asked me if this was what I really wanted to do, and encouraged me to do it with a genuine smile. What I am never able to  articulate is that it has nothing to do with want, and everything to do with will.

Yeah. That feels better.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Push, and breach

The imparting or exchanging of information

Let's play a game