My last book was a long, hard slog to write, and when I look back on my process the only thing I can put all the pain and suffering down to was that I didn’t really plan anything. For months I bumbled my way through a loose plot, trying to make my characters do stuff they really didn’t want to do. I cried, I yelled at them, I threw things, and it was the hardest book I’ve ever written.
Yes, I’m being a little dramatic (but it’s all true).
Anyway, from day one I’ve been a pantser, and I was proud to be a pantser—freedom to the creativity and all that. So I was surprised that this book became such a thorn in my big toe, because I pantsed my way through my first book just fine. But the sequel was really, really, really hard.
I now have the final…
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