My middle brother, who is also a writer, and an excellent one, if I do say so myself...but, I digress....anyway, my middle brother is quite calm. Almost eerily so. It's more unsettling when he blows a gasket, because he does it so rarely, that it makes you stop and go, "Oh, sh*t. Trouble." But when I blow a gasket, people just roll their eyes and assume that I can't get my printer to work, or I've lost my keys, or something. I hate that.
Anyway, what I am getting at is...I am keyed up tonight. I don't even know why. I am doing what I wanted to be doing all day long (instead of painting green grassy hills on my boy's bedroom wall). I am finally sitting down at the computer, writing. Which is good, because my "fans" (all 25 of them. Shut up! Do you have fans?) are riding me for more. I actually have a couple of friends who finished This Ominous Secret: The Proposal in less than a day! (One even did it in 4 hours. I don't know who was watching her 3 kids, but whatever...at least she liked it!) Now they want more Dillon and Gabe. They want to know where the story goes from here.
Hee hee. I already know. The whole story is completely written. I am just adding/editing to make it into three books. But overall, I know how it ends. It is so hard not to share, but I am sure some of the girls would kill me if I ruined the surprise. Gaaaaahhh! It's hard. I love writing. I love initiating this sort of response in a reader! When they read my work and they are literally craving more! That's how I feel every single time I close a Nora Roberts or Kristan Higgins. I want to chuck my Nook across the room and wiggle and dance around, because I am all warm and fuzzy and giddy because of the way they wrapped it all up. Yet, I also like the way "Linger" ended....because HOLY SHIZZLE! That was a cliff hanger. I may die before the next one comes out. Have my copy sent to heaven. The postage might be expensive. Sorry.
Anyway, I should get back to my chapter. I just wanted to post about being keyed up. Do all writers get this way, or is it just me? Sometimes I feel like I have so much going on in my brain that if I don't sit down and write a chapter, or at least a few hundred words, I will explode all over my pink office. (Yes, my office is pink. It used to be my daughters' bedroom before we remodeled and she got a lovely new lime green and turquoise bedroom. Now I have the pink "poodles in paris" themed office, complete with stenciled poodles, eiffel towers, and vinyl lettering on the wall that says: ance like there's nobody watching, love like you'll never get hurt, sing like there's nobody listening." And yes, I realize I misspelled DANCE at the beginning. It's because I peeled off the first "A" a few months ago, when I was bored and had writers block.)
I don't want to explode all over my office. It will be an awful mess, and I don't want to leave my nerd with four kids to look after all by himself. (They will eat him alive.) Besides, I am getting my hair done on tuesday and if I am going to die in a "keyed up writer explosion accident", I would prefer to have great hair when I do it. Maybe, just maybe, I should just sit down and focus and write a damn chapter, so that when it comes time to present this second book in the This Ominous Secret series, be it to a "fan" or to an agent (*snort*), I would prefer it to be actually finished, so that I don't have to scramble. I had a friend who offered her book to an agent she knew before she'd edited, then had to scramble like a mad woman for weeks to get it out the door. I don't want to do that. I don't work well at the last minute. I prefer to get my crap done prior to due dates so that I don't have to fight the urge to comfort eat, or throttle anyone. Which is good, considering the fact that I am already fat and I have four children running around here.
Ok, time to go. Time to focus.
Brooke Moss.
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