Seven. Novel number seven, that is. I started writing it today.
I needed to stop and reflect on that number a little. I suppose I should start with that frequently used qualifying: if you would have told me ten years ago that I would have … (fill in the blank) … for me it’s … written seven novels, I would have said you are crazy. Because ten years ago I was afraid to write. I had no talent. I had a poor vocabulary. No one anywhere would ever want to read what I had to say.
Yeah, that was me. Those self-doubts haven’t gone away. I suppose it should be “Whoa to the writer who never has self doubts!” I think that is someone in Ecclesiastes.
But I’ve learned, as I’ve written many times, that I no longer write for other people. I write because I am compelled to write. I write because I can’s stop the creative thoughts which keep exploding out of my brain. I write because I love it, and a poor review or a snide comment isn’t going to stop this writer anymore. It used to. And, might I add, the poor reviews and snide comments were typically self-inflicted.
But, wow, seven! 7! Bay! (That’s Vietnamese without the tone mark.)
So I started my seventh novel while my fifth novel hasn’t been released for very long. “Which Half David” came out in September, and it’s still in its infancy in regards to promotion. Honestly, I haven’t had the time to do much with it. I even feel my fourth novel, “A Love Story for a Nation,” has a much longer life to it as well. It’s only fifteen months out from its release and has yet to reach wide-spread distribution. Still working on it.
What about #6, you ask?
Six is done. It’s currently in the hands of some beta readers to get some feedback. It’s entitled “A Man too Old for a Place too Far.” Yeah, kind of long, but I like it. And as an independent author, I get to make the call! So there!
Anyways, #7 is my first sequel. It’s a continuation of novel #6. Honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing with it yet, except I wrote a powerful and gripping opening chapter, taking the story back to 1918. It will throw off the readers at first, but has some pretty cool tie-ins.
Seven. It’s a pretty special number. Perhaps someday I’ll hit 10. Or dare I say, 20?
Here’s a excerpt from a post I wrote nearly four years ago, from Feb 2013:
“With one novel published, another novel finished, and a third novel in its beginning stages, I am off on a four year writing plan. My goal? When 2017 rolls around, I hope to have five or more novels under my belt.
I have no goals of readership or success or money. Those are the least of my concerns. I want to write. I want to improve. I want to strive to be the best, creative writer I can be. If I do that, I believe all those other things will take care of themselves, and even if they don’t, I’m writing for myself because I enjoy it.
So I have a plan and I’m sticking to it.
Remember the motto: ‘Create, not consume.'”
I’m happy to see that I have met my goal, and this goal was met while also writing dozens of short plays and several full-length plays.
It’s pretty cool to see where I have come from and I wonder what these next four years will bring.
Hopefully, a lot more creativity.