The Johnny Denovo Mysteries
Recently, I’ve wanted to retreat back into writing. Now, I have a busy life, so this isn’t a trivial desire, but I had hope — since the holidays, demands from Johnny Denovo have lessened. With the post-New Year lull, book signings have been few and far between, and other book marketing activities slowed to a crawl in February. I felt that things might finally be slowing down enough with the prior two books to let me devote a few hours a week to writing the third. I didn’t have to deal with Denovo as much. I could actually write about Denovo again.
Then, as you might expect, it all changed — interview requests, review requests, and emails all arrived, and seemingly all at the same time. I was preoccupied with dealing with Denovo, yet again. Yet again.
Now, I’ve dug out again from this mini-avalanche. And I hope to write again soon.
This has been a common occurrence. Right when I think the pace is settling down, that the first two books have gone quiet, or that I can safely go back to being an author rather than playing an author, something comes up that requires the public response, the non-writing writer. And I’m happy to respond. I like talking about the books, fielding questions, and batting around ideas. I like praise, and find criticism interesting for what is says about the books and the critic both. It’s all fun and part of the reward for having written two novels.
But now I want to write again. I have the itch.
Next week, I might have enough isolation to actually revise the third book from stem to stern. I might actually have the hours I need to write, edit, write more, think, delete, revise, and restructure — and to feel that pleasant glow of accomplishment when you know the story has been elevated by hard, creative work.
Next week, I’ll be a writer again.
Yeah, right. I’ve said that before. Let’s see what really happens.
