A quick note of BSP — the kind gentleman from Texas has interviewed me on Murder and Mystery Books 101. Stop by and learn all kinds of blackmailable information.
Now, about that whole procrastination thing…
You may think I’m kidding. I know I should be writing a
nice, happy list of New Year’s resolutions. I should be reflecting on the
craziness that was 2006, and laying out my goals and plans for 2007.
But the past week has been, to sum it up in one word, weird.
We lost James Brown and Gerald Ford. Poor Betty Ford suffered through days and
days of public mourning – he was our President, but he was her husband, and she
has to grieve openly, which really tears me up. Add to that Taps, missing man
flyovers, twenty-one cannon salutes, (I can’t count how many times I’ve mouthed
along to the Lord’s Prayer) and I’m an emotional wreck. Of course, I get teary
at the National Anthem, so you can imagine what the pomp and circumstance
patriotism does to me.
Balance the solemnity of the week with the absurd — Pat
Robertson has declared an imminent calamity will claims thousands of lives in
September, because God told him so. Saddam had his neck stretched on You Tube
and the cell phone videographer/perpetrator was arrested, who knows what will
happen to him? Yes, I’m guilty of watching. A couple of times, actually. Let’s
just leave it at that.
Then there was the jumper. He deserves his own blog entry, so suffice it to say he’s currently alive and residing in a psychiatric hospital in a coastal Florida town, and we’ll talk about that another time.
On a much happier note, Christmas was lovely. Two presents
especially – my very own engraved iPod Nano to replace my dinky Shuffle, and a
china box in the Limoges fashion my mum gave me that said “Behind Every Good
Woman… Is Herself.” That struck home in many ways. I guess if I have to
reflect, 2006 was the year that I proved myself – to myself.
I had my little freak out on New Year’s Day. Not to be
clichéd, but the train left the station at midnight, and I forgot to get off.
But that’s cool. Being an author is what I’ve planned for, what I’ve worked
for, what I’ve dreamed about. Right?
Top all of this nonsense off with a wicked cold, one of
those where your brain turns to absolute mush. That’s been the weirdness of the
past seven days.
Okay, you’ve caught me. There’s a reason for this…
ambivalence. It’s time to erase my white board and begin writing the next book.
Making the transition between books is always hard for me.
And it seems like I just did that (I guess I did, it was July. Time does fly,
doesn’t it?) I’ve been casting about for a couple of weeks, searching for
something to get me refocused. There’s no more cushion, no taking a month off
to find myself. The bullet must be bitten immediately. I’m actually starting on
the third book before the second is completely finished. As my darling critique
partner JB Thompson will tell you, thinking about multiple projects isn’t
something I’ve mastered.
But I hit upon something yesterday, drew up a list of names,
wrote an elevator pitch, and realized there is light at the end of my weeklong
tunnel. Halleluiah. The procrastination portion of our programming may be at an end.
How about you? Do you have trouble transitioning between
books, or stories? Can you work on multiple projects, or are you like me, more adept at focusing on one thing at a time?
Wine of the Week — A repeat from the past, but we had it for New Year’s Eve’s dinner, Tenute
Silvio Nardi Brunello di Montalcino
Honestly one of the best wines in the world. I plan to stop by the vineyard in April, replenish the stores.
Major congrats to Killer Year member Marcus Sakey, who has pulled off a nice little coup — getting a controversial review from the New York Times — outside the crime fiction section. Marcus is rewriting all the rules for debut authordom. He needs to be watched. I’ll reference Mr. Guyot’s eloquent post from Tuesday — combo platter indeed.