Thank goodness I finished the first draft of my next book before the real warm weather hit. It’s angst-ridden and moody. I just can’t pull those off the same way when it’s a beautiful, sunny, eighty-degree day outside. And I don’t want to. I want to plant flowers in my backyard. I want to go for a run. I want to plan a beach day. I want to take my daughter to the park. I don’t want to guess the motives of the nefarious characters surrounding me. I don’t want to suffer the trials and tribulations of first love. I don’t want to deal with the ink covered lead singer of the local garage band who won’t stop hitting on me. Yeah, not me, but the main character. Her life is one upheaval after another. Her life is “the winter of our discontent.” While mine is “made glorious summer by this sun of York.”
Yes, I’m distorting Richard III for my own purposes. If you couldn’t tell from my first book, I like the anti-hero.