Last night I finished the final chapters of The House of Many Doors. That makes three novels in under three years. I'm still astounded by that. I know there are power writers out there who routinely write multiple projects per year, but I am not a fast writer. Just a stubborn one. (Ok, maybe persistent is the better word.)
If you have been a regular reader of my blog, you have slogged through my ups and downs with "The Wings of Winter," "MindBlind," and now "The House of Many Doors." There seems to be a time in each story when I hit a wall, when the narrative stutters to a stop, when I wonder why I started writing the &^@!# story in the first place. Then I find my stride again and the story takes me on its ride to the end.
When I finished "Wings", I sat and cried at my keyboard. Writing 'The End' on that first novel was such an emotional experience. Little did I know the work of editing and revising that lay ahead of me. I learned a lot writing that first novel. I still believe in the story, but I understand why I wasn't able to find a home for it in the world. Perhaps now that I've finished "HoMD", I can return to "Wings" and see it with more experienced eyes. With a little revision, I think it has great potential as a YA fantasy.
Two and a half years after I started writing my first novel, I am still optimistic. Optimistic and realistic. Yes, the publishing business is a crazy one. The odds are stacked against the novice author. The likelihood of being able to quit my day job and make my living by writing is quite slim. I'd be better off buying lottery tickets to strike it rich.
Yes, all that is true, but I have stories to tell.