“Write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open.”

It’s been a busy year since “Oliver’s Surprise” went to press.  Book signings, visits to book stores, meetings with the publisher, author blogs.  Best of all has been talking with so many kids and adults who’ve taken Oliver into their imaginations. He’s brought smiles to faces on near and distant shores, and I’m sure that will continue with the second edition.

Now, after a full year of revising, designing, marketing, and of course selling books, it’s back to writing: I’m working on a sequel.  On mornings when the sunshine and perfect temps are calling me to join them outside, I’m sitting down at my desk and trying to figure out What Happens Next.  Some days it’s worth the sacrifice, and the story line flows through my fingers onto the screen.  Some days I check my email way too often.  On the worst days, I give up before lunch and write a blog post instead.  One way or another, I’ll get this next story written.

What I’m learning is that after such an exciting period of diving into the nuts and bolts to get my book Out There, it’s simply impossible to rewind and write from that innocent place that created the first Oliver.  That’s even more the case since the first book wasn’t originally written to be published.

For that and many other reasons, the next book will be different.

I’m often disappointed by sequels.  I go looking for more about my favorite character, only to find s/he has moved or grown up or changed too much to be recognizable.  And yet I wouldn’t want to read exactly the same story all over again; that would be too much like a  “formula” book.  I always have the feeling that formula authors start with a plot outline  and just fill in the blanks next to the characters’ names.  Lucrative, for sure, since publishers are always looking for more than one book.  But that’s not what I’m after.

What I’m after is to write a BETTER book.  More depth, more details, more drama.  All that without (hopefully) ruining the quiet charm that so many liked about the original.  And the only way to do that is to close the door and just write, trusting the characters to show me the way forward.

So for the next few weeks or months I’m going to close the door, maybe setting a brick or two on the floor to keep it shut.  I’ll muzzle the editor within.  Send  the marketing director to an island resort with a faulty internet connection.  I’ll write what comes to mind, without thinking about how it fits into the creative arc or who’s going to buy this crap.  It’s the only way for me to figure out What Happens Next.

And for now, I’m keeping mum about any and all story details.  I have a direction and a plan, but I’m not completely sure yet what will come of it.  Only this morning, Oliver threw me another curve ball. We’ll get there, together, with him leading me most of the time.  Then and only then will I start editing, and find out what I really meant to say.

What is it that you like or don’t like about sequels?  How closely should they follow the original story?  Let me know what you think, and maybe your comments will spur my creative process.

Newly Installed Ceiling Fan

“…If you ever get annoyed
Look at me I’m self-employed
I love to work at nothing all day.” (lyrics from Bachman-Turner Overdrive’s “Taking Care of Business“)

We’ve all seen the commercials touting the benefits of the work-at-home, freelance life.  Though I don’t have any pink fuzzy bedroom slippers to knock together while on conference calls, I also don’t own any suits… unless you count the “bathing” variety.  After all, spending money on clothes that impress is completely unnecessary when I’m the only one in the office.

After fifteen years of working out of my home office, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. No one glares at me over the cubicle wall if I giggle on the phone with a friend in the middle of the day.  Best of all,  I set my own schedule, make my own list of priorities, and dodge the worst of office politics. And if a call comes in for canvas work… I accept.  I don’t have to limit myself to anything less than the entire crazy roster of my skills.

I’ve also learned to give myself some structure.  I start the day with a workout (biking, running, or this time of year, swimming) without worrying about what the timeclock will say when I punch in.  After a shower, I eat breakfast at my desk.  By the time I’m finished, I’ve usually caught up with the overnight accumulation of email and can start in on that day’s project.

I write better and ideas flow more easily in the morning, so I try to get any creative work out of the way first.  Afternoon is the time for sending out new quotes, researching background for stories, bookkeeping, and pounding the airwaves for new work.  When I’m focused on a job or excited about a pending project, nothing can distract me short of the house burning down.  On days (like today) when the sunshine and warm breeze make it hard to focus, I give in and  knock off a little early.  I’ve learned that I’ll make up the hours and do a better job by coming back to work after dinner or skipping the next lunchbreak.

The downside (and of course there is one) is that it’s hard to delineate work and what, for lack of a better term, I’ll call non-work.  This past holiday weekend was a perfect example.  Relaxing on our front porch on Saturday afternoon, a quick email check was only three steps away.   That of course led to just a little editing… and next thing I know, it’s dinner time.  I have to be careful to stay away from the desk and the computer on “off” days so that home is still a place to relax.

The good news is that I love what I do and how closely connected my work is to the rest of my life.  Though there’s a clear line between billable and not billable hours, there’s no way to put a price on an idea sparked by a magazine article I read while I’m actively avoiding my email.  And who knows what next book idea will come from an afternoon sail around the island?

Working at home isn’t for everyone, but for me it’s a luxury.  And best of all, when a call comes to go to a regatta… I go.  No boss is standing between me and my sailing, except, of course, the ultimate boss:  the bank account and how much is left in it.

Time to go for that sail and spark the next book idea.