According to my countdown calendar, I have 19 days before I need to upload my book to retailers and from the looks of things, it’s not going to happen. I have to admit, I came up with a burst of inspiration to write this book in April and promptly blew that off by cockily taking on other projects that were so far off my usual target. I chose to write to market and made decisions that ended up being big mistakes during the summer and with 19 more days left before the second deadline that’s since been pushed back, the panic that’s long settled in isn’t helping me finish the book beyond its original 28K words.
I’ll lose hundreds of preorders but I’d rather do that than produce a lackluster book that somehow lost its soul along the way. I’ve been trying to rewrite this thing and it isn’t happening. I’ve also tried to take it where I ended it and it’s not happening either.
I’m sure part of the reason is panic. Another is the current state of world affairs. Fears have breached the walls of my stories and my characters are mirroring every one of them.
I hope it’s temporary for I desperately want my characters in this book to, at least, find that happily ever after before I close the door on their story. I don’t want to leave them hanging, not after I’ve set them aside to pursue the wrong goals during the spring and summer, thinking too confidently that I could go back to them.
Only I was too cocky and foolish to believe that.
But I’m going to keep trying. Maybe along the way, I can find a way to banish the real-world fears from the sanctuary of my stories, and in the process, give readers (and myself) a place where they can be safe.