So, my head is almost 100% into Book Two (Bloodlines). I'm tweaking and shaping and creating the first few chapters until I'm ready to move on as I try to get inside the head of a new character. She's not new to the trilogy: Rachel is a key player in Banquo's Son but now I'm intending to spend as much time with her in this book as I did with Duncan in the first book. It's fun. I'm in the honeymoon/first flush of love stage with this book.
Then, a number of times a day, I receive wonderfully excited emails from people who have or are read/ing Banquo's Son. There appears to be a need to 'discuss' the ending and the choices Fleance makes; to work through, I guess, the joy and sorrow the ending brings. I want to tell everyone what happens to everyone but I can't. I have to hold that information in so that the reader discovers it for themselves.
And, of course, daily, the kids where I teach react to the book.
Today, for example:
8:30 Mrs Roxborogh, I finished the book! And, not happy.
But did you like it. Did you cry?
Yes. But how could you. How could you do that?
Interval: I've bought another book to give as a gift. Can you sign it please.
This is the third one, isn't it?
Yes, but what a perfect gift.
3:30 Same student as 8:30: You tricked me. I was worried and Mum said what's the matter and I said no it's okay and then you went and did that!
6pm, local supermarket: I finished the book.
Her mother: Now I can read it.
Me, to student: so are you a Rachel or a Rosie fan.
Cue: discussion as to the merits of both
Then there are the reviews or interviews which come in every few days like this one from the very impressive(according to this English teacher)blog called 'We love YA'Go here to read the interview about Banquo's Son.
This weekend past has shown me what I really need when I am writing seriously: quiet - for myself (ie no tv or radio or dogs or phones or kids) and for the family (I tend to talk aloud a lot). So, this afternoon, after school, I pushed open the door to the sleep out (my study) and surveyed the mess. This is not a representative photo. This was taken earlier in the year. Anyway, what confronted me, after a long, dark and cold winter, was a mess where papers and books and bills and bits and pieces had been dumped.
Right, I said, pushing up my sleeves. Time to sort you lot out. And sort out I did. What a wonderful feeling. A few more touches and I will be back writing in my special writing space and the family can do as they want. So dear reader, this will be my view for the next months: