I'm in the middle of writing what must be my 25th book (not all went on to be published). Actually, I wish I were in the middle. I'm more like in the first third. It was due May 11, but after a talk with my editor this week, it got pushed back to June 2. I did not ask for the extension, but she gave it. I actually hope to land closer to May 11, because I know I'll get edits soon on a different book. Plus I need to think about promoting the book that comes out June 18.
I'm also going to St. Louis for four days in the middle of the month, then to Houston for two for the Teen Book Con, then to Southern Oregon (where I grew up) for three or four days at the end of the month.
The day after I get to my old home town, new buyers will take possession of my mother's house. I want t
o walk through it one last time to say goodbye to all the memories. Maybe I will leave them the key my father carried on his keyring until he died and that has been on mine for the past 10 years.
My mother's death still pains me. I think of her every day, sometimes every hour. And everything was good between us and she had the best death you could ever have. I don't know how people deal with the dead if things were bad between them.
While I'm down there, I'm going to need to write, of course. I have a decent outline for this book, at least for the first two-thirds. I don't know how the sleuth will connect the dots. I don't know what the big show down will be, or how things will look lost but won't be.
I have gotten stuck like this once before, with my back against the wall and no time to write. That time I turned out one of my best books. Will I be able to do it again?
I sure hope so.