It’s been literal sub-zero temperatures this last week, which means I’ve retreated into my writing cave and officially begun hibernation. Instead of flying south for the winter, I hunker down in five layers, curl into a ball in front of my computer, and bash my half-frozen fingers against the keyboard.
Winter seems to be my lucky season, writing-wise. Last winter, my wonderful agent and I were in the middle of negotiating the contract that eventually led to my trilogy being picked up, which coincidentally spurred me to get serious about writing the creatively-titled Book 2.
The winter before that, I was putting the finishing touches on IN THE SHADOW OF THE GODS, then called simply THE BOUND GODS. (Yes, I went close to a year without working on the series. That was a really bad choice. I know.)
This winter, now that there’s finally snow on the ground and the tip of my nose has gone permanently numb, my wintry writing instinct is kicking in. I’m on a good, long writing streak (not always easy around a full-time job and real life intrusions), and I’m smashing the daily word counts I set for myself. I’m hurtling towards the end of Book 2 (which will get a proper title some day), and it’s feeling like I’ll demolish my self-imposed deadlines.
I’m kind of a fan of winter.
And so is Goliath.