For months, I have been working more hours than I can remember on getting my two books out in time for The New Year.
During waking hours, hard at it and often waking in the night, my mind full of ideas, edits and character’s voices.
Yesterday, I realised that it was over. I awoke with a feeling of loss. The day seemed shallow, which seemed strange, considering I had two books now available on Amazon.
Like so many writers, my books had taken over my life and then they had left, like children leaving the nest. I had empty nest syndrome.
I busied myself advertising my books and felt like I was doing something, but still it wasn’t enough.
I had received the new cover design for my upcoming book of short stories, Twelve Shards of Glass, that morning.
My wife and partner in crime, Raine, said write something, so what if it is New Year’s Day, write.
I sat down and began a short story and within an hour, my empty tank was full once more. Suddenly my mind was filled with thoughts, characters, and ideas.
What comes after the void? A filling up of new possibilities