Actually, there isn't a set formula. One has to work it out on ones own. Before Banquo's Son, I'd never written: a historical fiction, more than 60,000 per book, a series.
So, here I am. Writing book two in the Banquo's Son trilogy and, unlike the lovely Diana Gabaldon, I don't have three years but three months to go from 42,000 words to 120,000.
As I said in my previous post, each of the key players is about to head into some pretty crappy stuff so I have taken stock and decided to go back to the beginning and do some serious editing. This will enable me to send the first third to my editor, agent and the babes for their response.
I've spent today doing a lot of work for the trilogy and no writing. Finding out such things as the rise of the plow and the three year cycle of agriculture and the attitude of the church and the movement of peoples around Britain and Europe. I don't know why we keep thinking these guys were backward (well, you may not have but I kinda did). They were amazing in their water mills and weaving and technology and community spirit and organisation of the people and education.
Okay, no flush toilets and not very good medicial understanding but, hey, my friend who had his leg amputated on Tuesday still suffered misdiagnosis on Thursday when, eventually, it was discovered he had collapsed lower lungs. Even in this advanced time, medical people get it wrong. It is not an exact science. Therefore, I give myself permission to give Rachel special understanding of the way the body works. Perhaps she is a healer (in the biblical sense). I can live with that.
I will endeavour, in the next few weeks, to upload some snippets from Book Two.