The first two books I wrote came very easily for me. Curls inspired my first, Curls and the Big Book. And Red inspired my second, Good Night Mustard, Sweet Dreams Ketchup. They were both children’s stories and less than 800 words a piece. The majority of the time I spent on these books were going back and editing, which I did on a daily basis.
I am now starting my third book and it is controlled chaos. I have decided I want to write a young adult seven book series. Yes, I am a bit of an overachiever. But when I got the idea for the story, it played out over seven books. Call it inspiration from the Harry Potter books. Or call me crazy. Either way, that is what feels right to me at the moment. That is an exciting feeling but also overwhelming. Deep down I feel like this book is going to be the one that defines me as a writer. It may sound presumptuous or even arrogant. But I want this book to put me on the map. All of these things would be amazing but it doesn’t really matter if the book doesn’t get written.
I have written notes galore. I have thought about my characters, where the story takes place. I already know my end game for the series. I have outlined the first few chapters. And yet, when I sit down on my broken down couch in my living room while Red plays in his playroom and Curls is at school, I just stare at the screen. I don’t think it’s writer’s block. I think it’s the exact opposite. I have so many things that I want to put in this book that it’s hard to focus on one thing. So I tell myself, “Calm the fuck down.” I take deep breaths. I count to 10. Hopefully this will be the week that it works. Until then, I am going to just keep writing notes.