I went on vacation last week. I didn’t write a single word, but I had a glorious time. I even talked about writing 🙂 A lot.
Stay with me here. I’m making a point. Sort of.
When something’s in your blood, your heart, your soul, it seeps out. And guess what? People who love you, who want to see you succeed don’t care. They will listen and smile and encourage you to talk more. And you’ll glow. And feel totally goofy but also utterly content.
At least, that’s the way it worked for me. And that got me thinking how very many books i have in my head. Curious? Okay, here goes:
One 7 book fantasy series (kind of a la Robert Jordan, but not that in depth).
A paranormal quirky (I don’t know what else to call it) that might turn into a series (holy cow!)
A paranormal romance (I know, I know. I didn’t intend to write one…) This one is NOT meant for the clean audience, but it’s not erotica. Just has some grown up themes.
Three more in the ‘Sherwood Forest’ setting, in addition to the novella I’m writing now. (Yes, I’ll be writing about Marian’s mother. Eventually.)
And I think a couple of paranormals that are kind of on the cusp of being something…in other words, I’ve written beginnings, but not much else.
So unless something really changes drastically, I’m looking at 13 books at roughly a book a year.
Do what you love. Otherwise, what’s the point?