With each writer, it is different. I don’t have some strange beast that comes to sit with me like Stephen King’s Muse. I don’t hang myself upside down or drink strange potions or kneel before a Word Count Alter in the morning while funneling Columbian coffee into my mouth.
I just sit and let that river inside me flow. First I get goosebumps, then I cry.
If neither happens, I throw the novel away. If only the former happens, then I paddle a little with my fingers and see what happens. But if I don’t cry eventually, then the novel metamorphoses into a shelved ghost town where tumbleweeds console it till the end of time. Simply put, if a novel doesn’t move me, I just don’t have faith that it will move anyone else.
With Revenge of the Sea, I cried more than I have with any other novel. With Revenge of the Sea, I got more goosebumps than with any other novel. With Revenge of the Sea, I completed myself somehow. And now, I am no longer the same person I was when I began it.
But the question is: why?
To confess, at first I only wrote this novel for my few loyal readers … to complete the trilogy. But, as the novel began to write itself (as only the decent ones do), as characters such as Mr. DM just took over, and I held on like a city slicker gripping a wild horse’s reigns for dear life, I realized that Revenge of the Sea had to be written.
The inspiration came from the novel itself.
And I also realized something else. Revenge of the Sea, while it is attached to the other books in the series, it is also a stand-alone novel. Which, up till now, I thought was impossible. And those sirens that sing, “You can’t write a series and a stand-alone in one book,” are silenced …
I’m glad I wrote this one. And when you read Revenge of the Sea, I think you’ll be glad you read this one, too. Simply because, like me, I don’t think you’ll be the same person you were when you started it.
Yours in literature,