In
March I published my eighth book, Amaryllis
for Phyllis, which takes place in January. My books all go by the months of
the year. I took longer writing this book than any other book except for my
first book, The Blue Rose. In March
2016, I’d just published my seventh book Blood
Red Poinsettias shortly before going to Malice Domestic.
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| San Francisco Bay. We always go to Fisherman's Wharf. |
I’d
spent a lot of time writing it so I decided to wait a while before starting a
new book. As I wrote in an earlier blog, the year 2016 was busy filled with an
ex-husband moving in with my son next door after his third wife died, and then his
death in October. There were several trips including camping with my sisters,
and going to California to visit my daughter. I hosted two reunions at my house,
delivered Mobile Meals, attended two book clubs and writers’ group meetings, a
graduation and a few birthday parties. This was in addition to my daily chores
of weeding and planting my gardens, mowing my extensive lawns, and feeding my critters.
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| The corrected cover |
Sometime in October I started my eighth book which takes place in January – Amaryllis for Phyllis. I put a lot of time into it in between having my California daughter come home shortly after her father died, and later getting ready for Christmas and other things that always keep me busy. But with the weather no longer pleasant, I had more time to work on the book keeping at it until I finished it sometime in early February. Then I had to wait and wait until my step-granddaughter finished the cover. She had a hard time finding a picture I liked of a woman in a wheelchair like I wanted. Finally, she went to a hospital with her mother and had her pose in a wheelchair. It wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but I settled for it. Unfortunately, I didn’t notice she’s misspelled Phyllis’s name. She spelled it Phillis. I didn’t notice that until I opened the box of twenty-five books I had ordered. It took a while to get in touch with her and have her change it, and then it took some time to change it on Create Space, because she hadn’t sent the correction in a PDF file. Finally, she did that. I still have to order some of the corrected books. Ellen Eckhouse at the Village Bookstore that sells my books said they’re collector editions and will be worth money someday. So far those who like my books don’t mind the ones with the misspelled title.
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| They're in the barn nights, & have shelter days if they want it. |
Because
the winter was a mixture of cold, snow or lots of rain and wind, too, I
couldn’t do much outside except care for my ponies and chickens. So I started
writing my ninth book for the month of February – Red Roses
for Valentine’s Day. I was on a roll with that book. It pretty much wrote
itself once I got started. On Friday, I
wrote chapter forty – my last chapter. Now I have to start the job of doing one
final edit and then reformatting it into a 6” by 9” book with opening pages,
etc. And then I’ll be going over each page again when it is put into a book
that size because there will be pages I have to edit to make it look better, as
well as some lines or words that are misspelled that I didn’t notice, nor did
my critique partners at the time.
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| She's using the picture of my aunt & mother |
My step-granddaughter is already
working on a cover for it as well as a cover for a memoir a ninety-three
year old member of my writing
group wrote. My friend Laura edited her memoir, and I reformatted it into book
size and made some edits, too. I’m hoping I can get her book published soon.
I have a few ideas for my March book, but I
think I’ll wait a while before I start that. However, I may start it sooner
than I planned if I get a really good idea for it. Still there’s a middle-grade
historical fiction book I started with a young ghost as the main character in
the town of Hiram, Ohio where I taught third grade for years. I want to get
back to that, too. Another thing I haven’t done for a while is write short
stories for contests. I probably should work that in, too, when I’m not weeding,
planting, mowing or camping, and the other things that keep me busy.
If you’re a writer, how do you
feel when you finish a book?
Are you eager to start another
one?
