Flat on my back, gaze to the late summer sky, I lay on the bottom of my rowboat and float.
Wherever the waves take me, I go.
No longing for a shore.
No desperate paddling to steer me and my boat another way.
I just float.
And maybe hum a little…
(But since this analogy really doesn’t need a musical score let’s forget about the off-tune rendition of “Gilligan’s Island” and just carry on with the floating bit.)
Yep, you guessed it. With 9 solid weeks to go before Book Three’s deadline, I’m letting “The Lion and the Steed” series sea take me wherever it will.
I know these waters well. I’ve sailed them before and recently. So I know what creatures inhabit this sea, and am no longer surprised or concerned when a giant squid tickles me with its tentacles or tosses me a hundred feet up into the air.
I’m just floating… and occasionally giggling or flying through the air depending on the octopi mood.
It’s a delightful time in the process of writing a contracted book.
At this point, you’ve outlined the story at least well enough to sell it to the publisher.
Your characters are either warm and fuzzy or fresh and fascinating in your head. They don’t bother to taunt you just yet. They simply float along on the same waters as you. Occasionally, you bump into them but it doesn’t really matter if you don’t every day. There are plenty of other fish in the sea for you to play with. Scenery, atmosphere, and colorful though inconsequential backstory (that would be the octopi) will keep you pleasant company for a while.
For two weeks more I’m just floating.
The doubtless storms ahead haven’t reached the horizon just yet and the weather is just fine.
Yes, the writing life is good, if a bit wet and ticklish.