Having ignored my first novel for several days, my mind finally started moving forward to my next project. Now, I know it’s been advised not to write a sequel until the first one’s picked up, but that’s what’s demanding to be written right now, so that’s what I decided to work on.
I already had a measly 400 words down, from a few months ago, but it really was only a very rough beginning. And I’m not an outliner, but this part of the story has been brewing for months now, so when I sat down to write, it all just flowed out, sans outline. Since Sunday, I’ve written close to 7000 words, and I’m having a hard time stepping away from it.
Despite the obsession, I think the best thing to come out of all this progress, is I remembered how much I love to write. So much of my energy has been focused on revisions, and rewrites, and blogging, that I forgot what a release writing is for me.
So, for today, I feel a little more like I have balance, in my brain, at least, and writing has resumed its proper place in the natural order of things as my stress reliever instead of my stress creator. Oddly enough, I’m not even that concerned about whether I get a request from an agent on the first one. Those feelings will most likely change before tomorrow, but for now, I will bask in the glow of my fresh and shiny new WIP. :)