It has been a week since I have seen my novel in print and the excitement is only escalating. And, it’s not because the number of sales are increasing, it’s all attributed to the rush of feelings I am experiencing. Of course, I would love to sell a million books and get a movie deal; but, if it doesn’t happen, it’s okay because it will not extinguish the euphoria I am feeling knowing now that I can call myself an Author.
I’m an AUTHOR — hallelujah! And this is another accomplishment I have scratched off my bucket list of things to do and see before I die.
A little more than a year ago, when I penciled my first draft of just 50 pages–the storyline had been simmering for 30+ years–it was just another project I had started, like so many others, which I threw to the side without another thought.
I am a procrastinator, no doubt about it. I can’t tell you how many projects I have started with exuberance, and then let die a lonely death. This time, however, was different. And the thanks go to my confidant who showed me an article in our local paper. A writer had self-published a book through Createspace that she had started writing only four months earlier.
That one article made me spring into action in April of this year. “If she can do it, I can do it.” I searched everywhere for the composition tablet where my outlined tale resided, and got to work. My days and nights were consumed with research, writing, and typing. Those who read my first blog might recall an article I wrote in March titled, Hiatus, Brain Fart, Writer’s Block. Amazingly, I did not suffer any of those afflictions–not one time while I was writing the novel.
I figured out the secret, for myself anyway. So, for all you aspiring writers out there, I had my cable disconnected. Yes, that’s right. I realized and accepted that I was addicted to the television, especially crime-related shows.
I was amazed and thrilled at the flurry of ideas that rushed to the forefront almost begging to be written into the pages. The creativity flowed nonstop. Fictional characters pleaded to be part of the story, which I added. So, when it was time to cutout stuff, I was okay with that. Why? Because it is stuff I will use in my sequel. Yes, I already have the ideas firmly planted for a sequel, which I plan to publish in 2014.
My debut novel, The Missing Five is set in Washington, DC.
The metropolitan area is in a panic. Over the span of a month, middle-aged, African-American men are disappearing without a trace. The local police are slow to respond in investigating these bizarre disappearances, and not because the victims are black, but because statistics show that men in the U.S. are not kidnapped unless robbery is involved.
During the upheaval, successful real estate agent, Jackie Trumpleton, cancels a dream vacation to South Africa with four women she has vacationed with for twenty-plus years, and decides to stay in the country. She dismisses the danger and invites the women to vacation in the DC area.
The crisis escalates as the disappearances continue to mount. To avoid backlash, Arlington PD contacts the FBI, but it’s too late. Disaster strikes again. Without warning, more men disappear in the blink of an eye. The count now stands at five.
When the FBI finally gets a clue, secrets are uncovered that will blow the case wide open and shock everyone, except the perpetrator who wears an elaborate mask.
I hope you have an opportunity to read my debut novel, The Missing Five, and post a review either here, at Amazon, Smashwords, or Goodreads.