I'm about to publish the third book in my middle grade series, The Charming Life of Jute. This the triumphant conclusion, the finishing piece, the end. The cover art is in progress and I've quadruple checked the text. Soon I'll post a wrap up of my experiences and the results of the grand experiment.
And as happy as I am to have actually finished something this big, to have seen it through to the end, I can't help but feel a little uncertain now.
I have no idea what I will do next. I may never publish another book. Sure, I'll still write -- I have such fun each year participating in Nanowrimo. But what next? Should I try to write another story for middle grade kids? Maybe a second Jute trilogy?
Or maybe I should try my luck at something aimed a more general audience.
I believe I need some kind of a creative outlet. I like to create things even though the process is the rewarding part for me. My daughter loves to draw and I find myself picking up her "how to draw" books and thumbing through them. I've never been any good at drawing. But I'm fascinated by the process.
I think I've about hit the limit of my crocheting. I enjoy doing it, still, so I might make a few things. But I don't think I'll ever be prolific.
Mostly, though, I'm looking at the wide open future, the upcoming calendar for 2014 is blank. I have no big plans, filled with magic to stir the soul. I have an urge. Not even an inkling, just a notion that I want to be doing something.