Dec. 21, 2016 – It’s hardly a new concept, likening the letdown of sending off a manuscript to post-partum depression.
Still, I didn’t expect to be laid so low when I hit “send” on Book 5. I did the right thing – started straightaway on Book 6 – and noodled away on a first chapter without having any idea where it might go. (Don’t even talk to me about outlines. Just don’t.) Extreme moping ensued.
Usually, when I start something new, I’ve got a good idea of the beginning and – more to the point – the end. Then all (as in, “all”) I have to do is fill in the white space in between. But with baby Book 6, the end was a big honkin’ blank, just like everything after the rudimentary first chapter. A desert, devoid of ideas. The depression was deep.
Then, last night at about 3 a.m., the hour where creativity dwells, an end came to me. And what an ending! As with everything before it’s written, it’s brilliant. I lay there, smiling, mighty impressed with myself for about three minutes, until I wondered what might get li’l baby Book 6 up on its knees and crawling toward that very extremely fabulous ending.
Well, I thought, this thing might. And then, that thing might, too. And this other thing sure would be an interesting twist. Usually, I email these 3 a.m. flights of fancy to myself, but last night I actually got up and flipped open the laptop and went to work. This morning, no post-partum depression.
It’s a long, long way from this tiny seedling of an idea to a full-fledged book. But it’s a start.
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