One of the things I love most about weekends is that I can stay up as late as I want and write to my heart's content without my son or my husband coming in to my office to ask me for some milk or what time I'm coming to bed. I'm pretty good at tuning them out when I'm in a writing groove, but not completely.
I've started a new book. Yes, a new book. I haven't gone back to one of the previous ones that I started, but didn't finish, now that I'm taking a break from my two completed manuscripts until after I get a little feedback from agents and editors at the SDSU Writers' Conference next weekend.
Well, that's not completely true. I hand-wrote the ending in my journal for one of my old ideas and it's perfect. I've been thinking a lot about how I'm going to develop those characters and that story. I think it's going to be really great.
But this new story is just pouring right out of me. I started it last weekend and I'm up to 55 double-spaced pages already. I've got lots of ideas written in my journal for the new book too.
If I ever do get a book published and have the opportunity to write novels full-time, I'll probably aggravate my agent, editor and publisher, because my mind is constantly jumping around to different ideas. I remember being frustrated at last year's SDSU conference when agents and editors said you pretty much have to find one genre and stick to it. That's just a ridiculously stifling concept to me.
Anyway, I'm having fun. But it's getting close to 1 a.m., so I guess I should get in bed. The "Awake" tea I drank around 10 p.m. is wearing off now ... zzzzzzzz ...
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