Writing cause I can

I’ve been working on my new book and I know I would not get anywhere without my awesome dad basically telling me what to write. Okay not so much but I wouldn’t get far without him. I tend to not see the forest for the trees, lots of times the obvious answer is lost to me. That’s why I like sending him what I write and then call up and see what he thinks. It never fails, he usually spurs on some thought that has me grabbing for a notebook and pen to write down the ideas that start burning through my mind. I also like having an outside view because I have a problem of writing how I talk, meaning I assume every0ne knows what I’m talking about because I know you should know. So I have a bad habit of not explaining stuff very well. That’s where you really get into balancing the amount of description you put into a book. Too little and no one knows what you’re talking about. Too much and they get bored while you’re busy describing the tassels on the drapes. I lean more to the minimal side. Maybe too much to that side.

My first book, Immortal Longings, if written by anyone else probably would’ve actually been 3 books. Instead I ended up with one in 3 parts. I can’t help it. I tell you what you need to know and that’s it. Then I have to go back and actually explain it so you understand it because apparently people just can’t read my mind. Up there I see it all but I hate bogging down the story with too much detailing and dragging it along with fluff. I know everyone has different writing styles but I know I could never have finished my first book on my own or probably any future book either. But that’s okay with me. At least as long as my dad doesn’t mind me calling him a million times a day for ideas. So far he does not.

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