When I finished writing Wildbound, it took months for my creative spark to reignite. Once it did, I spent a year and a half on a project that ultimately never left the ground. Fortunately, the next transition time between manuscripts shortened: a month, perhaps, or maybe two until a new novel flew from my fingers like the story had been building inside me, just waiting for me to tell it. That manuscript is complete and holds my heart. I am incredibly proud of it.
Now, again, I find myself at the precipice of another story, another transition. I’ve set a goal of starting to draft the next novel by the end of October. A lot of planning and preparation has to happen, though, before I can dive in. What does that process look like?
On paper, the steps are relatively straightforward. In reality, long and complex. I began by sending my agent three write-ups for potential new books, each painting a picture of its proposed novel in broad strokes: the story’s subgenre and mood/tone, the protagonist in brief, the primary magic, the setting, and a very general outline of the plot trajectory. I had a favorite of the three and was excited to learn my agent’s top choice was the same.
Once we were aligned, I entered the stage I’m at now:
Build the protagonist from the ground up.
Research the setting until I know it well enough to bring it to life on the page.
Deepen my understanding of the folklore I intend to weave into the tale.
Iron out the antagonist’s motivation. (It’s a good one, y’all.)
Identify the best way to incorporate a romance subplot, then develop the love interest’s characterization.
Get my climate change messaging in place, because I write in the intersection between fantasy and climate fiction. (If you’re unfamiliar with the horror that is bottom trawling, consider this your cue to look it up.)
Slowly but surely, plot out the storyline, the many twists and turns, until an outline takes shape.
I’m excited about this next novel—very much so. The creative inspiration has officially hit, and it feels good.
There’s another part of the process more difficult to define, though. One that can’t be accomplished by making my way down a checklist or blocking out my time. It is the transition—mentally, emotionally—from one novel to the next.
The excitement for the new novel is there. It’s real. But so are the five times a day, every day, in which I think about how very badly I want the previous book to be published. I want it with every fiber of my being.
So as I dive into the next manuscript, this is my task. To balance the nerves and uncertainty with hope, and channel my attention into something I can control.
To the dear readers reading this: thank you for being here. I promise I’m working as hard as I can to get another book out to you soon. <3
xx,
E