Today is the third anniversary of a very special beginning. It was the first time I’d taken part in a NaNo event. More importantly, I wrote the first words of a writing project that had been brewing for thirty years.
That first book evolved into more. A second, a third. Definitely no more than four. Or six.
Today I’m writing the closing scenes of the sixth book. I’m wrecked. I’m overjoyed obviously. But also there’s fear. I’m almost done. I’ll have to do something with these books now that I’ve written them. There’s also a desperate sense of loneliness because I’ve been living with these people of mine for so long. As long as nobody forces me to interact with *gulp* real people, we’ll be good.
So there it is. Three years. Six books.