Last week my husband and I went for a hike. It was not the best hike ever. There were thirty-three switchbacks, and I was impaled by an aloe vera plant. But we had lots of fun planning new books. We have worlds created and plots outlined. I even have names for my primary characters. And these books have nothing to do with The Tethering. I still need to finish The Tethering series, and I am super excited to get started on book three. But starting to weave a brand new story is rather thrilling.
Granted, if I were to actually write all the books we planned out on our hike, I would be busy for the next six years. But making new rules for new people is all engulfing. I’m not trying to say that my legs weren’t twitching like a caffeine-deprived college student on the way down, but when each plant you look at could lead you to create the plant that saves the protagonist’s life in your next book, or if the tiny little foot prints you see crossing your path could belong to a fairy, a long, dry hike suddenly becomes something extraordinary.
And to me, that is the best thing about being a writer. The possibility that the next thing you see, however mundane, could lead you to something great. Real life is exciting and complicated and colorful. But add the possibility of walking into another world, and magic becomes real.