Just life. Every day ticking of the clock. And suddenly you wake up to realize that two years have passed. Or ten. Or fifty. And you just wonder where it all went.
But I'm back. (from outer space). (Sorry. Couldn't resist.)
I'm back, and I have some fantastic news along with it. See, during the past two years, I've been doing some serious learning, growing, and working on my writing. And yeah, I've still got a long, long way to go. But I woke up this week and had one of those moments. Where has all the time gone? What do I have to show for it?
I have a book.
Several, in fact. I've completed a number of novels, but most of them aren't fit for human consumption. Not yet. But Evey... she's been around for a while now. Four years ago, a flash of inspiration hit me. I pounded out 40k words in 3 weeks. Which is not unlike a NANOWRIMO pace. It was crazy. Like a whirlwind romance in 1920's Paris, that you know can't last forever, but you can't tear yourself away either.
It slowed a little, after that. But the writing still went crazy. And I ended up with a crush on this sweet guy named Isaiah, and idolizing the sheer tenacity of this tiny little teenage girl called Evey. No matter what I've worked on, she never left my side. And finally, after a lot of work (and an enormous amount of learning, fixing, re-vamping, and beta testing), Evey is ready.
I'm no Gail Carson Levine. I'm no Suzanne Collins, or John Flanagan, or Agatha Christie. (Great holy spacemonkeys, who ever could be Agatha Christie? The woman was a genius.)
I recognize those things. But Evey hit a point where she was as polished as a story ever gets. I've been using the finest grained sandpaper that exists, and there's nothing more I can do for her.
Except turn her over to you.
This week, The Greenwood Shadow goes up on Amazon. Read. Enjoy. (Or at least, fake enjoying it, so that lots of other people will buy my book and bring me happiness. And by happiness I mean money.)
(But also actual happiness.)