Was up early and out of the house before eight and went to the school where I am reading my newest book. (Book # 1) As I read, I mark MS where I think I can do better. It’s gratifying when I get to the end of my twenty-five pages, and they plead for more. That’s when I schedule the next date.
I go home, and review what I just read, and make the adjustments I need.
Then I pop open the computer screen and work on Book #2, revising the first few chapters, trying to get the voice right, the sense of the story, so I can move forward. Now and again I check the editor’s notes to see if I am answering the questions posed, the suggestions offered.
In the afternoon I go off to interview someone in the know about the subject I plan for book #3. It’s extremely complex, and makes me feel I have waded into a wide river that’s swift and very deep. And I am trying to learn how to swim. But the people I’ve spoken to are very helpful, like the notion of what I intend to do, and offer promises of more help and more contacts to interview.
Then I go home and review my notes, in part by telling my wife what I’ve learned. “Have you decided how you are going to tell the story?” “I’m trying,” is the best I come up with.
I return a bit to Book #2.
Tonight I think I’ll read someone else’s book. It’s a lot easier than writing #1 or #2 or #3.