I really lost myself during Book Two. And I love that book; I truly do. I poured my heart and soul into it. Turned all of my childhood pain into words. But I put so much pressure on myself to get everything perfect. I was scared of messing something up. Of not representing my thoughts well enough. Or people not liking what I had to say.
And the book still isn’t out, so I don’t really know if I did well in the eyes of the readers. But I do feel like I did well by my own self. Both my younger and older self. I said what I needed to in that book. I represented my true self. And from what feedback I have gotten so far, it seems like that came across well. I’m sure I’ll panic again when the book is actually released, but for now, I feel at peace with Book Two. I’ve moved on.
It’s weird. With the cover delayed by having to switch to a new artist, I’ve had to start Book Three before Book Two is even out. I want to talk about how Book Three is a new arc in Jane’s story. But there is only so much I can say about why that is. I want to talk about important new characters and seeing old characters in different lights, stronger roles. But again, that gives something away.
I guess all I can say is that I’m relieved. I’m riding the wind of inspiration, jumping between different chapters and scenes. I don’t expect this rush of excitement and confidence to last through all of Book Three. I’m sure I’ll run into issues and frustrations. I’ll have new battles with self-doubt. But maybe, just maybe, I can hold onto my passion for telling stories - and not let the fear take it away this time.