I’m Ready to Move On

I started writing Whalers in late March or early April of last year. Over the course of three months, I crafted a first draft of about 40,000 words. I sent it off to an editor in July, revised the first draft in August, September, and October. I hired a cover designer in November. I prepared to launch in December, January, and February.

And here we are again, in March. A full year.

Whalers has done fantastic so far. Earlier this week, we sold our 300th copy. We have 43 ratings on Amazon, with an average of 4.7 our of 5 stars. We have 20 ratings on Goodreads, with an average of 4.8 out of 5 stars. I couldn’t be happier with the reception. Most self-published authors would feel incredibly lucky to sell 100 copies in the first month, let alone 300. I am so incredibly thankful.

For my readers, Whalers is brand new. It released just a little more than a month ago, and I know many people are either still digesting it, or starting their first read of it.

All except the people closest to me. For them, and myself, Whalers has been around for quite some time, even to the point where one of my earliest readers said to me the other day: “I’m ready for whatever is next.”

So, today, I want to talk a little bit about what is next.

At this present moment, I am 30,000 words into my second novel, which equates to about 140 pages. I started writing it in early February and am really happy with the production of it so far. Right now, my working title is Medusa, but I’ve found that there are far too many Medusas on Amazon’s book list, so it will most likely than not change over time. Titles are tough.

The old adage is that in first drafts, you’re simply making the novel exist. Second drafts are for refinement. Right now, that’s what I’m doing, day after day. I’m just making the novel exist.

I’ll tell you this so far: Medusa is a novel about a father trying to outrun a revolutionary movement he helped create. When Peter Holloway met Meddy at Dartmouth College in 2009, he had no idea their shared ideals would one day lead to an armed commune in a remote town in northern Maine, a place they and their followers turned into a fortress. Now, years later, Peter is on the run, with only his daughters beside him, trying to escape the movement he once believed in. At it’s heart, Medusa is a story about parents and their children, and the way things, like trauma, are passed on generationally. It, to me, feels like a blend of Cormac McCarthy and Don DeLillo. I can’t wait to see where it goes.

If you’ve made it this far, I’ll give you a little something extra. For a sneak peek of Medusa, click here.

Love you guys.