So I finally had a chance to write my Christmas novel.
Being me, that means I don’t want to do another one. At least not for a while. The world has Richard Paul Evans and he can be that Christmas story guy. Paper Angels was a unique story and an incredible experience to be a part of. There’s no way I can duplicate it. Even if I (hopefully) go on to do more collaborations with Jimmy Wayne.
I’m nearing the end of The Solitary Tales. One more week. We’ll see who lives and who dies in Solitary, North Carolina. We’ll see if Chris makes it out of there. Questions will be answered, but of course not every answer will be a pretty or likable one.
I have some answers, but in my world, things change on a weekly basis.
Sometimes because a door opens or shuts. Sometimes because an idea sprouts to life or falls apart. Sometimes just because.
The plan I had for 2012 changed. I was going to do something big and outrageous. But then I thought—will anybody really, truly care? Something’s only big and outrageous if it gets noticed and talked about. I didn’t want to kill myself just to say I did something massive and killed myself. I might have done that years ago but I can’t, not in my present pink world with three daughters depending on my sanity.
There’s a part of me that would really sorta love to finish The Solitary Tales and then just disappear for a while. Maybe it's time. Take a break and live life and get a real job. Keep writing but slow down. Or write under a pen name. Or just write to practice.
Then again, there are those stories that have come to life over the past few years.
There’s the big one—the massive one that has already started. That’s a keeper. Somebody needs to carry on the torch that Lost lit, even if it comes in the form of novels. So yeah, that one is mapped out and already started and . . . we’ll see.
Then there’s that Hunger Games-esque trilogy that Coldplay’s latest album has inspired. That’s not a just a fun idea. It’s already done in my head. Call me a copycat—I couldn’t write a series like that author did. My result would be—well, it would be distinctly me.
There’s the fun little trip back in time that’s going to happen. Yeah. More on that soon.
There’s also the love story idea that’s being talked about. That’s a really good possibility.
Yeah, there are more collaborations that have potential. There are other ideas that a longshots. There are stories that are in the initial stages of being worked on.
I have been trying to make the most of being a fulltime writer. Because tomorrow or next week or next year, I might not be one anymore. I’m okay with that.
Eighteen stories into this writing world, I feel I’ve told some decent stories.
And I honestly feel like this: if God grants me another thirty or forty years of life, I’m really going to knock a few of these stories out of the park. I really feel like I’m just getting warmed up and figuring things out.
We’ll see what happens. But for now, I'm stuck in Solitary. Hoping for some light at the end of this dark tunnel . . .
Labels: future books, The Solitary Tales, the writing life, When You're A Fulltime Writer