Signy Shepherd Rides Again

Did I mention that Book Two in the Signy Shepherd series is well underway?

I know I mentioned in my last post that once Blown Red was turned into my agent the entire project vanished from my thoughts but, Book Two, which I had put on the back burner while I worked on the revisions to Blown Red is calling to me.

I LOVE the premise of Book Two. I think it is more complex, less cliche and I can't wait to get back to it.

Of course it would be optimum if Blown Red sold and the publisher wanted a second book. Knowing that there is a financial reward at the end of a project is a great incentive. It is easy to write under those circumstances.

Writing a popular genre novel when there is no guarantee of monetary gain is a different kettle of fish. It is not as though the writing is personally cathartic, or full of insight, or, in fact, brilliant on any level. It is just a fun story meant to entertain.

And, as it turns out, it is a fun story to write.

So, regardless of whether the first book sells, or whether I have to return to a 'real world' job, it seems I just can't let Signy Shepherd and her Scooby Gang of misfits molder in the recesses of my mind for much longer.

I guess that makes me a writer....

"What is it?" Grace asked.

Signy turned the strange object over in her palm, brushing the tip of one finger over what appeared to be a miniscule antenna.  "I have absolutely no idea."

Grace narrowed her eyes. "Maybe we should put it back."

Signy nodded. "It might be rigged to explode or something." Grinning, she sat back on her heels. "Then again, it just might be the key to this entire mess."

Grace peered at the object, its fluorescent orange surface giving off a toxic glow. Her eyes twinkled. "Open it."

Signy laughed then slowly pried off the lid.

My Book is Finished. What Now?

It's strange the way things end with a whimper. Blown Red, which occupied so many of my waking hours and more than a few of my sleeping ones as well, for almost a year and a half,  is back with my agent. Luckily, she let me know that she is very happy with the revisions and will likely offer it next week. Whatever that means...

It's funny, though. As soon as the send button was pressed and the final hard copy was tucked high on a shelf the entire project was gone from my thoughts. Poof. It just winked out.

So, what next?

 Obviously, I would prefer the best case, all time lottery win, super-duper scenario that would mean the book has sold and the publisher wants a second novel, and a third, and a fourth....you get the picture.

Still, I am realistic. I have jumped a lot of hurdles so far, but the highest one still needs to be cleared. Finding the right publisher at the right time who is desperately seeking just the right product.(Mine)

Will I win the literary lottery? Who knows? But that tiny baby carrot of hope dangling just out of reach keeps me tied to the computer. Writing, writing, writing....a new poem, a short story, book two...





Still, I can't help but contemplate the realities of paying the bills.

If I were younger, smarter and prettier, I'd think about becoming a storm girl. You know, those gorgeous chicks dressed in CNN slickers, long hair blowing in the wind, that give us the best of the storm porn. Super Storm Sandy, Hurricane Irene, Tornado Alley. Shattered communities, ruined homes, devastated lives, who wouldn't admit to a touch of good old schadenfreude?











Or perhaps I should return to my roots?  Take up the practice of social work again? I did go so far as to bring my RSW status up to date and I have been trolling the mental health job sites for leads. It might be fun.

Maybe...










 On the other hand, I saw my first flying squirrel the other day. That must mean something...

No really...I mean it.

You don't see a flying squirrel every day.

Thoughts anyone?