I’ve got a new book out, Powerhouse Plants. I think I may have mentioned it. It’s always possible that I might mention it again… You can see some of the pages on the right. Of course the book was actually finished long ago and now I’m waiting to see how well it’s being received and how well it’s selling. But before I know, I’m filtering ideas for the next one. It’s all a bit of a rollercoaster.
Crime writer Lawrence Block summed up the agonies and the ecstasies of writing in his book, Small Town.
“Writing was great, he thought. You suffered and you agonized and you were beset by doubts and fears, and then you finished a book and felt absolutely ecstatic, convinced you were great and your book was great and your future was coming up roses.
“That lasted about a week, and then you realized that you were washed up, that you’d never do anything decent again, and look at you, you indolent slug, why were you just sitting around doing nothing? Why weren’t you writing something?
“So he sat there, trying to think of something to write.”
For me, thinking of something to write is the easy part. On my “possibles” list I have masses of books of I’d like to write. The trick is to pick the best ideas, and hope there’s a publisher who agrees they’re the best ideas – and then hope there are plenty of readers who like the ideas enough to buy the books. I’d better get the red pen out and start narrowing it down.