I already posted once this week, so I’ll probably keep this one short, but I wanted to make sure I do my new little Wednesday thang so I don’t lose my groove.
I mentioned in my last post that while reviewing the proofs of my soon-to-be published middle-grade novel, I had an impulse to write a sequel. You know that old tune sung by Marlene Deitrich, “Falling in Love Again?” That’s how I felt about my characters on this weekend’s run-through. I kinda thought I was done with that phase of my writing life, and my emotions surprised me. My characters are delightful! Funny! Smart!
It’s a very strange feeling. I don’t really feel like I have a story to tell in which they’d belong. I don’t really have plot ideas for Mendel, Yehudis, Ari, and crew. But I don’t want to let go!!!
I did leave an opening for a sequel at the conclusion of Glixman in a Fix, but I wonder if my desire to write a sequel – so different from the desire to tell a story – is insufficient to generate high-quality writing.
Last week, I read the most recent No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency book, Precious and Grace. While I enjoyed reading about two of my favorite fictional characters, plot-wise, there were few surprises in the book. It’s like it merely existed to give us the pleasure of Mma Ramotswe and Mma Makutsi’s company one more time. That made for a pleasant read, but not fine literature.
Has anyone else experienced this situation themselves, either as a writer or as a reader?