Reading, reading, reading

I've been remiss in not updating my blog in well over a week. First, I did turn in my draft of the book. What's that like?

Always a let down, actually. A manuscript-- even one that's a lean 54,000 words-- takes a long time for me to put together, but by the end I'm always scratching my head. I polish what i can and yet i know I'm too close to it and can't see clearly anymore.

So it's turned in and you prepare to re-write soon enough, and you do other things. In my case, what I've been doing is reading, disappearing into other, masterful works. Since turning in the manuscript a week ago I've read To Kill a Mockingbird and Rebecca, and now I'm starting Then We Came to the End on paper and The Scarpetta Factor on audio. And I have a new idea niggling at me, something that started as a poster, an absurd, crazy collage image that I made, and now I'm working backwards to see if the outline is absurd, too, or possibly one of the coolest ideas I've ever had.

That's how ideas turn up, sometimes as posters, sketches, jotted lines, maybe a song. They can turn up anywhere. Yesterday the Idea seemed stupid again, dull and unimaginative, and then today there was a mention of something else in a newsletter that seemed to send a signal, hey, that's a good idea, there, don't toss that yet. So it goes.

Nice to have some extra time, time to get back to work.