by Janice Cantore
As I sit down to start the draft of a new book, it occurs to me that the beginning of a new book, like the beginning of the new year, brings bright promise. I have a new cast of characters, a new storyline, and fresh ideas. The problems that twisted up my last book are gone or worked out. The new, blank page promises an easier journey. Likewise, it’s a new calendar year, the struggles and hurts of the past year are memories and hopefully nothing in the upcoming year will be as painful or difficult. The shiny new calendar is blank, a year not yet marred by any troubling storms.
Since I’m a pantser, when I begin a novel, I just start writing. I don’t outline. I have a general idea for the story in my head and I write, developing everything as I go. In the first pages, it’s all new and untried, unspoiled. I’m the creator, building my world and controlling the elements. Sometimes the process goes smoothly, and sometimes it’s aggravating and difficult. One day a scene that seems perfect will the next day be deleted because, well, it just wasn’t plausible. By mid-book things are familiar, and sometimes a little tedious. Characters get stubborn and storylines get muddled. One I get the middle squared away, it’s on to the end, wrapping things up, and this is where the hardest fight begins. By now I’m acquainted with everyone, sometimes a little too well, and I just want everything tied up neatly and without any plot weakness or typos. Finally typing ‘the end’ and being satisfied is like winning an epic battle, knocking out an overwhelming army of self-doubt, stale ideas, cliché dialogue and characters. The promise at the beginning is that I will conquer and be successful at the end, delivering an exciting new book.
I approach the new year like I approach the blank page. I realize I can’t control life like I do my books, but of course I always have to try. The months ahead promise something new and better, not the same old struggles and defeats of the past. As one year gives way to the next, I’m still a pantser in life, I have a general idea of where I want things to go, but how that happens is only revealed as the year rolls on. I can look back and know I don’t want a repeat of some things. Memories often turn up in social media. That picture taken when things were good. Seldom does a picture with negative connotations pop up. My 2023 was hard to photograph. I moved almost 3000 miles from Hawaii to Florida. It was a struggle, and a bit of a defeat, because I’d rather be in Hawaii. The only thing constant in life is change, right? Now that I’m relatively settled in my new home, pinning up a blank calendar, I’m looking forward to a better, less struggle filled 2024.
As this posts in January of 2024, I know that I won’t be moving this year, so one stress won’t repeat. I have a new book releasing in February, One Final Target, and I’m looking forward to that. The first two months of the year are coming into focus. I’ll continue muddling through into the spring and summer, probably struggle a bit in the middle and then have an even harder time with the end, but soon December 31 will be here and I’ll get to do it all over again. Sometimes I wish I had as much control over my life as I do my books. Then I remember who is in control, and that He is a better author than I will ever be.
Here’s wishing that your new year is filled with better things, happier times, and new creative accomplishments.
A former Long Beach, California, police officer of twenty-two years, Janice Cantore now writes suspense novels designed to keep readers engrossed and leave them inspired. She lives near the Gulf Coast in Florida. She loves swimming, bike riding, golf, and walking her dogs, Abbie and Tilly.