I’m in the midst of enjoying reading freedom and plotting book two. Which has brought around a panic inducing realization.
Book two is very likely going to have to be split due to size issues. So I have a trilogy on my hands.
*Sigh* I did say I prefer odd numbers…
Yep looks like I’ve done it again.
For those of you that don’t know I originally plotted out BirthRight assuming it’d be a single novel. However halfway through I realized I’d already written the equivalent of a book (117,000 words). It was an oddly frustrating feeling because I was ready to celebrate being at halfway not finishing the book!
Announcing that I’d written a novel was rather anticlimactic because in my head I hadn’t finished. It seems that I’m finding the whole writing process anticlimactic actually. It’s such an enormous slog and you’re so intently focused on the end goal that when you hit milestones that’d have any sane person shrieking in delight you barely blink. All because of the end goal.
Maybe it’s different for other writers out there because they do finish at the end of one novel. I didn’t mean to write an epic fantasy series! This is what terrified me as a child/teen at the idea of writing. Sure you start but where the hell do you stop??
