I began writing a new novel before I finished writing the one I have been working on for the past 2 years because, of course I did.
It is the writer’s curse to potentially be inundated with an infinite number of ideas, but only have a finite amount of time to write them down.
Sometimes, when one story is hard to climb inside, another one takes its place and demands every ounce of your attention. That is very much what happened to me this time around.
I set myself up on my front porch with my laptop, an extension cord and my imagination, and I would sit out there from the break of dawn, often in a heavy sweater, jogging pants, and thick socks with knit gloves handy for when my fingertips turned blue. I would work as the sun rose in my neighbourhood.
And as the seasons changed, so did the wardrobe. From heavy winter wear to springtime denim and zippered hoodies, to summertime digs like flip flops, tank tops and shades.
By the time April was done, I had my mid summer complexion. It was kind of amusing. I was dedicated to be out on the porch writing rain or shine – depending of course on the angle the rain happened to be falling that day.
Being lucky enough to be able to work from home during these challenging times, I would put the novel down and work, then on my breaks or lunch, pick up where I had left off. I am very grateful to have been able to structure my days in that manner, for I know the reality of trying to get your words in while sitting on a bus or train. This writing experience was markedly different.
I tried to make it fun for myself as well, like giving myself silly challenges. One of those challenges was to finish the WIP while working face to face with another.
I was in a race against the building of the house across the street to see who would be finished their Work In Progress first. It was an intense race, and for a time there, we were neck and neck. But then, well, the wheels kinda fell off of my motivation and by the time I found them again, the builder was staking a “For Sale” sign in the ground on the newly laid sod across the road.
I lost that particular battle, but I am enormously proud to say that tonight, I wrote the words “The End” on my third novel. I marvel at that little factoid. My third book. I’m going to have to call my mom in the morning to let her know.
It wasn’t originally supposed to be a novel. It was actually supposed to be my first foray into screenwriting, but it kind of grew its own legs and took off running in the direction of novel. (I am not entirely sure that I have what it takes to be a screenwriter – but we shall see!)
I will pour myself a glass of wine to celebrate and give it a day or two to settle, then the real fun begins. Editing. When I get to read it and wonder what the heck I was thinking when I wrote this part or that.
Until then, I will savour the moment.