Posts Tagged ‘w-i-p’

Writing books is like having children. You go into it in ignorance, make a lot of mistakes, and marvel when each turns out so beautiful in its own way.

But oh my giddy aunt, they are so so different, sometimes it’s hard to believe that they all share the same blood.

My first-born, Dust, was all sweat and tears. Delivered after an excruciating elephantine labour dogged by every conceivable complication.

When I finally held it in my hands I marveled that such a small package could have caused such anguish and such joy.

Twelve months later, I welcomed Henry Hoey Hobson into the world. The unplanned second-born. My little surprise.

Perhaps because he arrived unannounced to an uncertain reception, he was different from the word go. His story came out with so little prompting, it was as though he had been here before, an old soul who had come into the world fully formed.

He slipped out so naturally, so sweet and so true, that I wondered if he would forever spoil me for the next…

I hope not, because I’m currently tussling with my third in three years.

This time round, I’ve found it harder to juggle three balls at once. There’s always one ball in the air, and of late it seems to have been Intruder, the work-in-progress.

Dust has made it into high schools, and Henry Hoey Hobson into middle school, so there’s been a flurry of activity on the schools and promotion front.

But now that I’ve finished my last public appearance for the year, I have finally been able to put those two balls to the side.

I’m back in the dacks of track, centring myself at the keyboard.

Picking up that third ball and running with it. A thousand words a day until it’s done.