So, as I hinted in the last couple of posts, this book is done.
That’s a seriously weird feeling, to be honest. A writer without a story is a pretty pathetic figure. I don’t really know what to do with myself…
Wait, that’s a lie. I know exactly what to do with myself. Start the next story.
Let’s be honest–I’m only happy when I’m writing, so I need to get back to writing.
As I mentioned way back when I started this, I always have a bunch of ideas fluttering and floating around. Mostly those ideas wait their turns with quiet patience. Connor and Oz were definite exceptions; they wouldn’t shut the fuck up.
Well, when a story is done it’s time to go back to those ideas…to those ghosts fluttering around inside my head. Err, that came out creepier–or at least more nuts–than I intended….
Oh, well. I write…no one really thinks I’m all there, anyway.
At any rate, back to these ideas.
My thought for the last couple of months has been to finally write the comedy about conspiracy theories I’ve been wanting to start. Crap, it’s only been sitting there, waiting for 15 years!
I love the idea for that book. I WANT to write that book. I’ve been looking forward to writing that book for ages!
And, let’s be honest, after Connor and Oz I could use a funny, sarcastic story as a relief valve.
So I’ve started working on the background for that story…a bit.
The real problem? Connor still won’t shut the fuck up.
The end of DockRat is a bit of a Rorschach test: you, as the reader, see and feel and interpret whatever end you want. What happens to Connor? To Nat? To everyone else? It’s up to you. To be honest, the only fate I lay in concrete is Oz….for all the tears and long nights THAT brought about.
But I keep thinking.
But I like Connor, and I like his universe/world.
But I still have personal stories to tell.
So I started thinking about a sequel…the sequel I swore I would not write when I started DockRat. This was supposed to be a one-off, a singular book never to be revisited. Unfortunately, the ghost that is Connor (and yes, Oz) still hasn’t learned to be quiet.
Great…NOW what do I write? The funny book I need for relief and release? Or the more personal story that I left hanging?
The only thing I know for sure is that I’ll be miserable if I don’t start writing soon.
This is why I never went back and revisited the old books, never looked to rewrite them: I always want to start that new story. A new story is a blank canvas…and I get more excited about creating and writing a new story than I ever do about reading a new book (and that’s saying something!).
Since I budget three(ish) months for research and background work for a new book, I don’t have to choose…yet. I’ll work a bit on both: develop the major characters and an overall snapshot of the plots, then decide.
Life would be a lot easier, however, if those ghosts would just shut up…