There is a point every December when my thoughts turn from the present to the possibility of the future. I pull out calendars, planners, and notebooks, and I begin to dream about what the following year could be.
This year, that happened during the second week in December. I handed in my second round of developmental edits for Betrayal at Blackthorn Park, the second mystery in my Parisian Orphan series. After a year spent writing and editing at near-breakneck speed, I could finally take a breath. I had no immediate deadlines for the rest of the year. For the first time in months, I let myself sit back and take a look at 2023 as a whole.
To say that 2023 was exhausting would be an understatement. For good reason, I’d agreed to write two books with nearly overlapping deadlines of June 1 and July 1. One was a historical novel—title still to be agreed—and one was Betrayal at Blackthorn Park. I planned out the first half of my writing year, diligently putting in time to promote two paperback releases in January of 2023 and one brand-new hardcover release in March. I planned out daily word counts and editing timelines. I knew what I had to be doing every day.
And then it all fell apart.
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