Finish a book, and what’s next? For your head? For your heart?
Well, okay…as I mentioned in the last post, I’ve been some separation-anxiety remedy into finishing this book—some filling in of color, some added tension, more witness to an ongoing threat—so technically you might say that the book isn’t finished. And in my head, it certainly is not. And I’m glad it isn’t.
384 pages. More than a year of my life. A series of magnificent joys, spectacular doubts and middle-of-the-night wakings. Some passages that sing, a few that still clunk. A way out that made me smile. Death and life.
The entire opening of the book might not be familiar to anybody who knows my writing voice. The fragmentary “immediacy” of the thought-passages probably will be. Does it meander? Maybe a bit. Do the meanderings tie together in a satisfying way? I think so.
I want very, very much to tell you about it. Until it’s finished and copyrighted, I won’t. I’ll tell you this, it takes to the extreme something you experience everyday…takes it, literally, to the substance of what makes us who we are. No small task. And no small challenge.
And what, then?
I’ll work up a website for it. I’ll sit back and re-start the search for an agent. I’ll wish that someone could do that for me. I’ll keep reminding myself that the worst thing that can happen is that I’ll e-publish it myself (an effort in which I’ll be studying intently the blog of Alexander Zoltai, who has been a good-if-unmet friend to this writer.) And most of all, I’ll work even harder to be better at what I do.
I know what the next book will be—hell, I have two to choose from. One is the sequel to The Spiritkeeper (a book I am panting to write.) The second is about…well…psychic graffiti, a whole that is still hidden in my head.
Having the cushion of two projects ahead is a comforting thing, an emotional reaction that is completely unchanged from my childhood, where I felt actual anxiety if I had no new book to read or story to write in my mental queue.
To the friends with whom I have been overly needy as I’ve finished Everything (although I’ve tried not to be, I swear), expect more apologies soon. To the rest of you? Why aren’t you reading something?
And to my Sky Diaries buddies, who have been so generous with thoughts and comments, thank you. Every day we spend writing is a new one, completely unlike the one that came before it.
Which means that this space will go on for as long as I do.