Book Two Didn't Mess Around

After 10 gloriously warm days with my family in Gulf Shores, Alabama for spring break, last night felt like a small gift. The air was warm and I could hear the birds singing through the screen door. The kitchen was clean and the kids were outside with their friends.

I sat down at my computer with every intention of checking off a few lingering to-dos from the day’s list. But instead, I opened a manuscript I’d written in three sittings back in July.

It was the first time I’d returned to writing since my debut book, Santa’s Summer Vacation in Michigan, released in February. Nearly two months had passed, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed this kind of creativity. For me, it’s one of the most peaceful ways to end the day.

And here’s the part that makes me laugh: It took me 10 years or so to bring my first book to life. Ten years of writing and rewriting – starts and stops, doubt, learning, growing – and finally, finishing. Yet this second story? It poured out of me in just a few sittings, almost as if it had been waiting patiently for its turn.

I honestly hadn’t looked at it much since July. Life picked up, the first book launched, and I let this one sit. But last night, as I read through those pages again and began my editing process, something clicked.

This one needs to be shared.

So here I am, back at it. Editing, refining, reconnecting with the rhythm of the story and the reason I started writing in the first place. It simply makes me happy.

Once I finish self-editing, I’ll ping the editor I hired for my first book and start my #AuthorJourney all over again.

It feels different this time – a little lighter, maybe. Less about proving I can do it (because I know I can), and more about trusting the ideas that stick.

Funny how that works.