PLAYING DEAD is done. Draft, revisions, and clean-up. This book was hell, but it wasn’t the book’s fault. LIFE interfered big time while I was writing it, making the book a week late and the revisions a week late.

First, there was Christmas. Okay, even before that were the copy-edits from hell from TEMPTING EVIL. Long story on that one. But after that was Christmas and Christmas means what? Right! Christmas Break! That’s when the kids are home from school for TWO FULL WEEKS, I need to shop, decorate, socialize, and do all those things I couldn’t because of my last deadline. There’s school plays, recitals, choir, church, relatives, friends, and well, you get the picture. I thought, well, I know how this book is going to go, no sweat, I’ll knock it out.

And at first . . . it flowed. Then life, again, slapped me with problems. Our new house. Severely declining real estate market. Nervous lenders. One thing after another and each one took time away from writing. And when I COULD write, my mind inevitably drifted back to the problems. I can take the little stuff that comes along in stride–a sick child, a couple doctor’s appointments, and I’d even added the gym in two mornings a week. But throw me a major stress-inducing crisis? Yeah, I can handle it, but my muse takes a hike.

I wrote PLAYING DEAD in five weeks, and you might think that’s good, but the book was crap. Okay, not total crap, but it had major problems. I called my editor and said essentially, do you want a really crappy book on time and we’ll do major revisions, or do you want me to work out the kinks on my own and hope for minor revisions? Being wise, she said send it, so I did. There were major revisions, but I expected them, and already had a list of things I wanted to change. She found the fatal flaw in the story and I found the solution. The revisions ended up much better than I thought, and the ending . . . which, to be honest, I wasn’t sure how it would work out even six hours before I turned in the book . . . worked out. At least, I think it’s scary! I wrote it for Monica McCarty who told me I didn’t scare her. Hey Monica! BOO!

My revisions usually don’t take more than 2-3 weeks, and that’s with built-in procrastination and slacker time. These revisions took 5 weeks, and I wrote every day (when I didn’t have to deal with house issues) and every night.

But they are done. I emailed them off at 2 am Tuesday (or would that be Wednesday morning?) and took yesterday off. Cleaned the house (some), caught up on email, made a list of all the things I neglected for the last month, took Brennan #1 to her ortho appt, and generally vegged

But I feel guilty. I’m thinking about what’s next . . . and itching to write it. If I take too much time off, what if my muse decides to hibernate? What if he goes on vacation, adios Allison, got things to do and places to see . . . and I’m staring at a blank screen?

I firmly believe that writing is not only talent, but persistence. And persistence means writing every day. Take a day off, it’ll take a day to get back into your stride. Take a week off, it’ll take a week to get back to your peak.

So it’s Thursday, and what’s on my plate? My mom’s coming over to help me clean out the play room because, yes, we’re moving in 2 weeks. And then Friday is cleaning day, and the walk-through on our house . . . and no chance to write. And the weekend is full of kids stuff. And then it’s Monday . . . what if I sit down and I can’t write?

So this morning, I’m taking a couple hours to write my opening chapter of SUDDEN DEATH. I started it a few weeks ago when I was stuck on a plot point for PLAYING DEAD and the opening scene just popped into my head for the next book. I wrote only 3-4 pages, but at least I set the scene. I’ve been reading books about Special Ops and the military to get into Jack Kincaid’s head, so I haven’t been completely wasting my time.

On her blog, Tess Gerritsen said awhile back that when she’s done with a book, she goes on a trip to refill the creative well. She travels to wonderful, incredible places and I am sure is inspired by what she sees and experiences. Since my kids are all young, I don’t really have the ability to travel abroad for any length of time. And, because I’m paranoid that my muse might stay behind in Ireland when I have to go home, I’m nervous to put down the laptop and forget about the stories.

But I do dream of a time when I can find a cottage in Ireland or a chateau in Switzerland or a beachhouse in Australia or an apartment in New York and live there for a couple months. To immerse myself in another place, rather than just visit. And of course, I would write while I’m there. But it wouldn’t be a vacation so much as living somewhere else for awhile, knowing I’ll always have a home base.

The kids are too young to do it now, but living a season away from home every year has a certain appeal and I’ve been thinking about it more and more. A vacation is busy; you have a finite time to “see everything.” But two months in Ireland means no rush, there’s time, and if I want to sit in the pub all day and write, I won’t think that I’m wasting my “free time.”

Anyway, I’m rambling. Suffice it to say that I don’t do very well when I have nothing to do. Even my daughter told me recently that I wasn’t happy when I wasn’t writing. (At the time I was between books–done with TEMPTING EVIL, but hadn’t started PLAYING DEAD yet.) Very observant, that one.

So SUDDEN DEATH is officially started and while I can’t give the story every day until after the move, I suspect it’ll take up more of my time than I planned.

WINNERS! ArkansasCyndi, I haven’t heard from you . . . shoot me an email at allison @ allisonbrennan . com (no spaces) with your snail mail. And the new winner from last week . . . kmg! Send me your snail mail too. You both will receive early copies of TEMPTING EVIL in May.

I haven’t decided on a series name yet, but I have a good list, I’m going to sit on it for awhile, and then send it off with any more additions. Thanks so much for all your help; I have a great foundation now.

“Write what you know” buzzes like an old door alarm in the ear of every aspiring writer, sometimes to the point of being irritating — don’t you think? As professional writers, if we’re any good at all, we write what we know as a matter of course; sometimes we go out and learn something new so we can write convincingly about it; and sometimes we pretend we know all kinds of things we really don’t—but attempt to pull it off anyway. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

But what about the times when expressing to the world “what we know” means we have to edge past politically correct? Each of us has his or her comfort zone, and we usually work within it, even when we’re stretching the boundaries, flexing our literary muscles, pushing past the ozone and doing all that fine, challenging stuff we know we’re supposed to do as writers. How hard is it to work outside the comfort zone . . . really?

I’m of the philosophy that anything and everything in life is fair game for fiction, especially when anything and everything is happening to someone else. But what about when it belongs to you? The idea of writing about anything that up close and personal feels . . . I don’t know–weird. It’s personal, private, and nobody else’s business. But what happens when the story with your junk in it has you where it counts and won’t let go? What are you supposed to do then?

Over the course of too many years, I’ve learned to wheel-n-deal with personal pain. No big deal. But to have it relegated to the sidelines where my loved ones are suffering . . . that’s far worse, in my opinion. And that’s a subject I want to crack. The thing is if I dare plumb those waters I think I can pull together a good story. But it’s so close to home, writing it might end up hurting people I least want to hurt, and if I disguise things too much, the story loses its heart. But such is a writer’s challenge. So I twist some situations, alter a few characters, add a personality trait or two . . . and write the piece that begs to be written.

I’ll find out if the story works if and when my editor waves his magic wand. Hopefully, if I’ve done my job as a writer, the story will leave a reader feeling a little unsettled and emotionally raw….as they reflect on just how much their loved ones mean to them. After all, grabbing a reader by the emotional throat is what good storytelling is about, right?