I’m back from my weekend getaway.
It was shorter than I’d originally planned – just two days and one night. And like I’ve explained before, my sister showed up unexpectedly so I spent a couple days with her before taking off. Still, my shortened road trip turned out to be just fine. I escaped from home and work, relaxed, and was even able to fulfill an ulterior motive…
I scouted the setting for a new novel.
You know, there really has to be something wrong with writers like me. Here I am, not even trying to get published, writing in this blog about my Layla efforts and how I’m still editing The Compass Master and will soon self publish it, and privately believing that Compass will be my last novel. This really is it. Finished. I’ll swear off writing and concentrate on just living. Hallelujah.
Then a really strong story idea came to me and characters popped up out of nowhere and invaded my head. And now I really want to write the damn thing just to see how it all turns out.
There are only three good points to this literary situation. The first two are the most obvious: 1) this would be a fun story to write, and 2) it takes place in Colorado. This means the characters aren’t running around Europe like in The Compass Master. It isn’t a complex thriller that takes a huge amount of brainpower and time to plot out. Ain’t no historical research to plow through for background material. It’s just a matter of sitting down and writing the sucker, which I will do (here I pause to sigh in resignation) once Compass is in print. As of this last weekend I’ve completed most of the scene scouting in southern Colorado, and that’s 90% of the background work I’ve got to do.
The third good point about starting a new novel is more complicated and I only came to realize its existence this weekend. It’s also a darker reason that I really believe might apply to a lot of writers.
I’ll tell you about it next time.