Ah, the satisfaction of a creative task accomplished.
A series written, accepted, and then published.
The joy of watching each book climb the sales charts, as readers decide it, too, is a fine use of their hard-earned money.
The scurry of posting to my website, to the loops, blogging, Facebooking and Tweeting to let as many readers as possible know the book is available.
And then ... the absolute sense of freedom. I can write anything I want. No world already built, no characters to stay true, no limitations, no established strictures. Sci Fi, paranormal, historical ... or even a combination of these, in steampunk or gaslamp.
Oh, criminy. The terror. Which way to go? Which of the many, many butterfly ideas to snatch from the air and feed, nurture and develop into a strong, beautiful bird capable of carrying reader on a flight of your imagination?
Weeks of indecision, of starting new stories, of bringing out old stories and fiddling with them, of casting them all aside. Time to read, lovely luxurious hours to immerse myself in other authors' fabulous worlds of romance.
Until one day, creativity has been fed enough, and from the fertile recesses, the idea that perches in my mind, hanging on more tightly than the others. Suddenly growing in bursts of color and fluttering wings. Settling in, characters coming to life in their strengths and weaknesses. The alpha males who will be brought to their knees by the most powerful force in any world--love. The flawed, yet brave heroines who will stand up to them, and lie down with them, along their adventurous path to true love.
And so it goes, in yet another world, another series. I look forward to sharing it with you, one of these fine days. Until then, stay tuned. You never know which way butterflies will fly.
