On Monday afternoon I typed the words “The End” on the first draft of Wedding at the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort. The denouement came with little fanfare. I was sitting on the sofa drinking a glass of water when I realized the book’s ending had been written for several days—it was just buried in the middle of a bunch of other stuff. I grabbed my laptop, searched for a specific phrase, and voila!
Not for the first time did I thank the powers that be for word processing programs. A bit of copy, a smidge of pasting, and a big fat dollop of deletion, and I had something that closely resembled a book. Well, the roughest, rawest version of a book. If I were laying it out in cooking terms I’d say that the ingredients are all there and they’ve been mixed into a batter, but before it’s ready for consumption it’ll need to be baked and frosted. Sprinkles are optional.
I gathered all my gumption and sent the batter, er manuscript off to trusted beta readers. That’s such a scary feeling. One would think it would be easier now that I’ve published two books, but it’s not. I’ll be a mess until I hear something from my readers.
Now what? Well, while I’m waiting to revise Wedding, I have a sequel to The Cowboy and the Executive running around in my head, and I’m almost certain there will be at least one more story in the Happy Valley Motor Inn and Resort chronicles. It’s a scary thing, this creation of characters. They take on lives of their own and they depend on me to tell their tales. I wonder if I’d have even begun writing if I’d known how that worked. Deep thoughts for a Monday evening. I believe I’ll have some wine.