With every new piece of writing, whether it's a short story, a flash fiction piece, or a novel, I'm still experiencing new things. I'm young, and still relatively new at it. This past week, I sat down to write a thousand word story that takes place at a Christmas party, and as you've come to expect from me, the main character has an existential breakdown, and has to figure out how he feels about life. It was fun, sweet, and in desperate need of a lot more depth, and some expansion. Writing it was probably one of the more pleasant work sessions I've had in months, and a huge departure from my usually dark thoughts. Writing bright, happy shit is weird.
When I started working on Fowl Play, Chef had been out for a few months, and I had had the opportunity by then to hear what worked and what didn't, and to gauge what I needed to work on in the next book. There is not a single better feeling than starting a new, exciting project, and having a clear idea of those things like I did.
With this next one, though, there have been three people that read Fowl Play, and their feedback - while immensely useful and deeply appreciated - was nowhere near as extensive as the feedback I'd received over the course of months with Chef (cuz, you know, how could it be?). I feel like I'm going into this blind. I'm confident in the idea, and sure that I can pull it off better than I did with Fowl Play, and excited to get into the meat of it, but it just kind of nags at me that I'm working with the same information I got a year ago. Nervous.
Anyway, I just wanted to put this out there. Writing is lonely work, and being able to share this is something of a relief. Thank you.
Until next time, have fun and good luck.