As winter gives way to spring, I feel the first faint stirrings of a new book. Just a scene here, a scene there. Just enough to make me eager to get back in the saddle.
What will the next book be about? What will I call it? Obviously there are plot lines that must be picked up where I left off when I finished The Throne. There are characters whose stories must be continued. But it’s never, never as simple as all that.
So I’ve got to get ready to receive the story, whenever and however it comes. I ask God for these stories and He always surprises me. But step one is to re-read the earlier books, to get back into the swing of things. And I have to sit back and think: not to try to plan, but rather to immerse myself in the world of Bell Mountain.
I’m never so happy as when I’m sitting outside in the sun with my pen and legal pad, scribbling away for all I’m worth. The stories come to me in dreams, and in unexpected flashes when I’m doing something else. I’m still some months away from writing a single word.
What will it be like this time?
I can hardly wait to find out.
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