It’s been a crazy, busy few weeks and as so often happens writing has had to take a back seat. Whenever I finish a writing project, I plunge into a bit of a panic, convinced I will never come up with another idea. I was so involved with my last project and absolutely in love with the characters. So when I was finished with them I felt lost. Started frantically reading my impressive collection of writing books, all worried because I can never plot and plan my writing in an organized manner, no matter how hard I try.
I am a pantser. I have a vague, but promising idea, pop into my head. I write a few paragraphs. And as I write, I know more and more about the people who are going to inhabit my story, as if they are telling me themselves. I’m not fully convinced this is the best way to go about things, but it is my way.
This morning I made my usual pot of coffee and checked for Paris Rose on Amazon – and there it was, the story I labored away at early in the mornings and in snatched moments before the school bus arrived, what an utterly indescribable feeling.