I’ve finally thought of a subject, and have written the first page of a novel that hopefully will take me through a second lockdown and the short, dark days of winter when I’m not working at the hospital. When the sun shines, it lures me outside and I don’t have much inclination to sit at my computer and write.
However, not to have the next subject in my head often makes me uneasy for some strange reason. I’m always happier when I know what I’m going to write about. It may take months for the right topic to come along, and who knows… maybe I feel uneasy until then just in case I might never again think up another plot!
I have the title already, which is usually the last thing that comes to mind. Unlike when I first started writing, there is no need to rush because seeing it published is not my initial aim now. I write for a hobby so I’m more pleased that it will give me something to do. Sometimes I write just a few words per day, and other days whole chapters; it all depends on how I feel at the time.
Writing for your own pleasure is cool; there are no deadlines to meet, you can do as much or as little marketing as you like, and therefore every book pre-ordered or sold is a bonus. There is no disappointment on receiving yet another rejection from an agent or twelve, and also no anxiety if the book fails to rise up the Amazon rankings.
I have a great hobby, and I’m enjoying every minute of it. Sure, if the right agent ever does get in touch then I’m not going to turn them down, but now I don’t go out looking for them and I wait to see if they come to me. One did in 2017, and so you never know (somebody from the development section of an American film company had read ‘A House Without Windows‘ and wanted the producer to read it too, but he was more interested in strong women rather than a woman who had been taken captive). At the moment I expect nothing and so I am never disappointed. It’s the way to be; it’s a pity I wasn’t like this in 2013 when I wrote my first book!