Have you ever wrestled with this monster? I call it a monster because it frustrates the hell out of you, saps your confidence and sucks up your creative juices until you feel as wrung out and used up as an old dish rag.
Some time ago I decided to write a series because… well, series are popular, aren’t they? Book 1 went well. It’s a historical romance: boy meets girl and they fall in love in spite of their countries being enemies. It is a light-hearted book, an easy read, with an element of comedy. A nice change for me because I tend to be attracted to tragedy. I’ve killed off so many characters that readers may be tempted to think I am a closet psychopath. Not so, I do assure you.
I didn’t publish it immediately, because I thought that while writing Book 2, I might find changes I wanted to make to Book 1. The monster made its appearance very shortly after I started writing Book 2. In 6 months of ardent effort, after various stops and starts, I managed an incredible 62 pages. Was I ever going to write another book? Was I finished, washed up, with all those books clamouring in my head never to be written?
Say it ain’t so!
I hate an unfinished project, but I had no choice. If I wasn’t to lose confidence in myself entirely, I was going to have to abandon Book 2, or at least set it aside for a while until I had tackled one of those charming creatures inside my head that were waving for my attention.
I started a new book. Want to know how I did? Begun in the merry month of May, I have at this writing managed 169 pages. Not a great output by some standards, but that doesn’t matter. It is progressing.
The monster is vanquished.