I know myself pretty well.
If you read the back cover of my first book, you’ll discover I’ve put myself on the hook for writing a trilogy. I figured if I didn’t do that, I might not even write a one-logy, so it was more of a challenge in consistency to myself than anything else. Plus, I like things that come in threes.
So the logical next step after book one of the trilogy would be book two, right?
I should think so. And don’t get me wrong. I’ve begun outlining book two of the trilogy made some good progress. Then I had some great ideas for the prequel, and not only did I outline it, I wrote a few chapters. Two options now. You’d think that would be it. Mind like water.
Apparently not for me. There I was with two really decent writing projects, and there’s a knock at the door. I LOVE knocks on the door because they’re full of surprises. It wasn’t a literal door, but a figurative door in my mind. Know who it was? Ray Bishop, a self-confessed professional spreadsheet jockey with a dual personality who discovers, much to her dismay, that her alter ego masquerades as a hard-drinking private investigator at night. Check out the first look at Bishop Takes Night.
No, not mind like water. Mind like watermelon. Why? It’s big and round and full of disparate ideas, Inside it’s all slippery, spitting out random seeds of story ideas. Mind like watermelon. It’s a blessing. And a curse.
The quandary? What to do in November? Nanowrimo. National Novel Writing Month. I have a decision to make. Of course, I’m not starting from scratch or even an outline, and I have some things I may join in progress. I don’t have the focus to complete a single project in November, even though I’ll probably write the 50,000 words. For me, every month has become Nanowrimo.
Oddly my dictation software has transcribed Nanowrimo as “Nano crime.” You might call it a mistake. I call it a knock at the door.
Who is it? I bet it’s that damn watermelon again. Sorry, I have to get this.
“What are melons doing on my porch? OK, very funny.”
Sorry about that.
My advice? If you have to make a decision, don’t ask a watermelon. Of all the melons, they’re the least mature and the most indecisive.