The sense of expectation that accompanies a new book is understandably high. After all, it took me couple of years and several rewrites before my latest novel saw the light of day.
So, when the first copy of The Temple of Fortune rolled off the press a few weeks ago with its beautiful hand drawn cover, it was so tempting to allow myself a delusory moment believing that it was the best thing since sliced bread.
The trouble was I’d been there several times before and vowed that if I wanted to continue writing, I’d better become more used to dealing with disappointment and start setting my sights lower than that Booker Prize!
So, that was my cue not to give into the demand for writer’s block from certain quarters and to get back to the crime series with a difference I’d recently embarked upon. Without giving too much away, the main character is an undercover private detective who doesn’t conform to the slightly knackered stereotype of the raincoated Columbo or Jersey’s dysfunctional Jim Bergerac and finds he’s more in tune with the criminals he’s meant to be pursuing than those the right side of the law. Watch this space!
Then there’s the sequel to Blue Skies Over Berlin, my second book, which needs to be completed for it to come to the market next year and, in common with more than one of my previous works, again contains a strong female protagonist.
There must be a pattern there somewhere!
That’s not to say that in the meantime, I’m not doing what I can to promote the last novel, but anticipating that building a following on social media and waiting for reviews may take longer than the time I’ve got left.
I thought I might try and negotiate an advance on my posthumous sales, so all the work as writer might just not have been in vain!