Monday, Feb 6
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Yes, I’ve written a novel. In fact I’ve written 3.3 novels. The point three is for the one in progress.
What prompted this frenzy of activity, the hours hunched over a keyboard, the rewrite after rewrite, and the attendance at three writing conferences and various workshops, not to mention all the seminars and all the reading about writing?
Ages ago, I lived in Mali, at that time the fifth poorest country in the world. Every moment of every day, I wished… Hey! There was an idea. I could write a book about the Mali I always wanted to see, about waving a magic wand to make it so. Of course, I’d have to throw in a little (or a lot of) hot sex and romance too. Maybe a fight or three, a little sci-fi time-travel stuff, or a fairy godmother, or… The possibilities were endless.
And so it began. Little did I know that “the book” would take over my life. When I finally finished the first novel (although it seems one could revise forever), I was so attached to my characters that I couldn’t leave them behind.
And so it continued. Book two morphed into book three and that morphed into book four—the 0.3 I mentioned earlier. Right now I intend book four to be the “happily ever after” ending, but I’m not precluding a book five or even six. An author never knows what her characters may demand of her.