So I have a confession. I am in a serious writing rut. Okay, that’s not the total truth. I’m in a serious writing-the-book-I’m-supposed-to-be-writing rut. I have put off starting the sequel for so long now, for so many reasons. 1) Fear of not making it as good as the first book. 2) Already guessing what the critics will hate about it. 3) Unable to decide which direction to take it. To name a a few. I did finally, actually, start it a couple weeks ago. I think I got four sentences written in an hour. They were pretty good sentences, if I do say so myself, but still…haven’t touched it since.

That’s not even my real confession, at least, not the juiciest one. Here it is:

I’ve been cheating on my sequel.

I’ve had this horrible cold, see, and I’m miserable and achy and, well, miserable. So I’ve barely gotten out of bed during the day, which means I can’t sleep at night. And when I can’t sleep at night, my writer brain goes crazy and I start getting all kinds of ideas. Also, I listen to my iPod to try to get tired, but it never works. It just gets me all inspired and stuff. So I was listening to a particular song and something suddenly clicked in me and I jumped out of bed and tiptoed to my computer and…um…started writing. A different book. I know!! I have so much guilt, I haven’t told a soul, not even my husband. But I’m so insanely excited about it I did the same thing the following night. And I can’t stop thinking about it. And this is not the book I’m supposed to be thinking about writing!! But it’s a book I’ve always wanted to write, one I had the idea for forever ago, when Emerald City was still just a fetus in the womb, not fully developed. And the other night, with the insomnia, and the song, and the creative mind going crazy…it just clicked and I had to start writing. I tell myself maybe I can do both. One book by day, the other by night. Then I remember that I have to sleep sometime, and, who am I kidding? I sleep much more than the average bear. Literally, bears, who hibernate all winter. I sleep more than them. So…*she sighs sadly* I know I have to somehow force myself to put this new book on a figurative shelf until my sequel…and prequel…and other sequel…are finished. It may be years before I can write this!

I feel so much better getting that off my chest. Please don’t tell my sequel, it would never forgive me.