Boy, 2017 sure did suck.
Okay, let's face it: 2017 was basically a literary write-off for me. I had big bookish plans for the year, which included publishing the sequels to both Apocalypticon and Na Akua, and maybe even throwing out a new novel I've been tinkering with, too.
Three books, one year. Seems normal.
Instead, what I ended up with was zero books and 87 metric tons of frustration. I didn't feel motivated to write last year. Like, at all. Which isn't to say I didn't write some good stuff...I forced myself to hammer out 30,000 words of Post-Apocalypticon, and I recently went back through them, and they're really good! It's shaping up to be a sequel worthy of Patrick and Ben's first Great Adventure. But it was also a struggle to write every single word, and that took all the fun out of it.
I don't know why I didn't feel like writing. But I didn't, and it lasted for pretty much a whole year.
But it's 2018 now, and I'm so happy to say that, at least in this moment, in this space, as it stands right now...I'm feeling the bug again.
I sat down and wrote 1,500 more words for Post-Apocalypticon last night, and it felt good. It felt really good. New characters and situations are coming to me hard and fast now, and I'm having fun re-imagining the wastelands from the first book, and I feel very, very strongly that this is a momentum that can see me all the way through to publication of this little guy this year.
No promises. But it's feeling right.
And with that all in mind, I'd better get back to work.