I’m working on a detailed plan for book no.2 at the moment.
What started out as a few tentative steps towards a whole new project has now gathered pace and I can feel the familiar excitement mounting as I consider new characters and settings.
It struck me the other day, however, just how much of an achievement it was completing my first MS. Please don’t misunderstand me here: I’m not saying it’s perfect – and won’t be subject to some serious revisions if I’m lucky enough to get to that point in the process – but for all intents and purposes, as it stands, I now have a 100,000-word novel that I can call my own.
Now, at the planning stage for book no.2, I’m acutely aware of what a serious undertaking this book-writing lark is. And I’m not simply referring to the discipline involved. For me, it’s a leap into the unknown – with a set of characters that I can only hope to become as attached to as I did those within my previous MS.
As my enthusiasm for a completely new project begins to increase in earnest, I find myself looking forward to the challenge.