Just over a month ago I finished and published my second novel. During the past few weeks, I've been in an unsettled sort of limbo, as I navigate the enormous vacuum that an all-consuming project like writing a book leaves in its wake. I'm not sleeping well, allowing my "day job" get to me more than usual, and feeling unproductively restless.

For 16 months, I spent the majority of my free time with Liz and Jack. Suddenly, these two characters whose dialog, dilemmas, and desires filled my head were gone. The feeling of loss is real, even though Liz and Jack were not. Have you ever found yourself thinking about a particular character days or weeks after you've finished reading a book? Well, it's like that multiplied by 100. Perhaps this sense of loss is one reason why so many authors write series rather than stand-alone books. On the up side, not writing leaves more time for one of my other favorite pastimes. I'm keeping my Kindle loaded with new books and happily binge reading crime, mystery, romance, suspense, and thriller novels.

From what I remember after I finished my first novel, this grieving and binging period may go on for several more months, but it will come to an abrupt end as soon as I get the idea for my next novel. I feel certain there will be a next novel. I love the process of writing a book far too much to stop now. I've set a personal goal to write 5 novels by the time I turn 60 -- 2 down, 3 to go.