Now What?
by Hilde Garcia
Deadlines.
I hate deadlines.
The panic that ensues when I know one is fast
approaching. How I start to stress
because of all the stuff in my way, mostly the laundry.
And yet, I seem to meet them all, even the late Sunday night
scramble to post.
I have no excuses now.
The house is quiet. Everyone’s
asleep, even the dog. The laundry is
done. My desk is cleared. No dishes in the sink. Today, I spent the whole day avoiding this
post, so the garage and office are spotless of clutter, as a result, and I
finally put away the Halloween decorations.
Talk about a now what!
I should be jumping at the chance to post, to write, perchance to say
something of substance, but sadly, I am more blocked than if I had put 8 loads
of laundry in my way intentionally.
And why is that? I
will tell you. Because I finished my novel. I revised it several times. I locked myself in a hotel room for 4 days to get through the edits and the polish and then I sent it
off and I met my self-imposed deadline.
And then I found myself asking myself, “Now what, lady? You are out of excuses.”
Yep, I am. I did what I said I was going to do and then I hit a slump. The waiting place.
Sigh. The clutter in my mind doesn’t go away.
It only makes me crazy because I can’t seem to find any type of
organizational system from The Container Store to make it neat and tidy, like my novel ended up being when I finished it.
I know I should be writing something else. I do have some ideas of what that topic could
be, but none of them have grabbed me like my first novel, my first love. My biggest fear is that I am a one hit
wonder. I will be a hit, no question, my
novel is good, but is that all I have? What is next for me? How do I even start anew?
Beats me, if I know.
All my author pals tell me they understand and feel the
same, but they have tons of ideas in the works, several published books out,
and are always writing. I can't see that being my reality.
I teach. I manage the household. I drive kids to cheer and football, but I do write a lot in
my head… while I drive… don’t worry, I watch the road.
So let’s start a conversation. I am pretty sure I have some soul mates out there who understand the panic.
What DO we do when we finish a novel and have
to move on? How do we do it? How do you get the hook that gets you going? How do you conquer the
pre-published blues?
To quote Frasier Crane, “I’m
listening…”