A couple of weeks ago I hand-wrote a blog post during a break at work to type up when I got home in the evening. In it I went whinging on about how I had almost finished this chapter, but those chapters were still not finished and that chapter was being a bitch, yadee yada ya.
But when it came to typing it up, I realised that rather than talking about writing, it would be a much better use of my time if I just did it.
So I did.
The first draft of book 2 is finished! Hurrah!
And now I'm feeling a little... lost. I've been working on the damn thing for so long that I can't really remember what I used to do before it.
I really want to dive right in to editing it but I know that the whole process works better after letting the novel 'stew' for a while. Looking at it semi-fresh eyes will show me what I have written rather than what I had wanted to write.
So instead, I've started planning book 3. There are a lot of strands I've collected during the first two books which I need to untangle and tie up in the last novel. I also don't want to delve into actually writing book 3 until I know that book 2 is doing at least approximately what I need it to do. So planning for the third book can only go so far.
This means that once I've done the bulk of the primary planning, and while I'm waiting for book 2 to cook, I'll probably have to start on something completely new.
Now isn't that an exciting thought? Terrifying, but exciting.