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Those awkward fat ladies

A few weeks ago, I did an apologetic Steve Redgrave Never-let-me-into-another-boat style blog.

There would be no Inish Carraig 2. It wasn't working. It would never work. I was doing it for all the wrong reasons - to please others, not because I had a story in me - etc etc. Sorry, John and Henry. So long for thanks for all the fish.

Most people were very good about it. And then IC's editor, Jeff, put in a comment that maybe I should write the story after the gang had returned to Earth, and a small little lightbulb sounded. Maybe John and Henry had never left Earth....

And then, long suffering Chris, my husband, made a comment that maybe, just maybe, there was a story around the intergalactic trial but that it didn't need to happen on the Zelo planet. And then I started to think about how things must be after the war, and what might be happen, and lo and behold I'm a chapter in with a three-stranded storyline (anyone who has read all my stuff might notice I tend to do this. I'll maybe blog about it later but Kare-Sonly-Lichio; John-Henry-Josey; Amy-Simon-Mark; Amelia-Belle-Jean in my new one.) Once I have three strands things start to work. Pace happens. Things happen. New books happen.

Now, I don't know and I'm making no promises this time. The book might get to 20,000 words and die - that happens. Or it might go to the end and I find out it doesn't work. Or it might get up to 60-80,000 words and be lovely and a new addition to the Zebedee book-babies.

Either way, I'm working on it. And that feels - surprising. And good.