It feels a little crazy to me.
Ditched is finally put to bed — that is to say, the final versions for Kindle, paperback and hard cover editions are all prepped and ready to appear on February 8. You’d think that would mean I’d take a minute to breath and consider the lilies of the field, but (at the risk of mixing my metaphors), time waits for no one as the next novel due out — Downhill — requires two more passes before publication in April. Not that I mind, especially, for I often find reviewing the story in deep detail gets me back into the minds of the characters — an especially helpful activity seeing as though I’m on the cusp of my next two-month writing binge.
Downhill is my third Sean Colbeth novel, and one that I explicitly wanted to take place back in Windeport during the winter. Partly to capture the essence of the season, I wrote the initial draft in late January of last year, as the last vestiges of the holiday spirit hovered in the air — and the temperatures here in Arizona turned about as frigid as they can get for the Southwest. It had the desired effect, for I found myself plunging my poor characters into the storm of the century while the dealt with a murderer intent on using the weather as cover. (I won’t say more at the risk of spoiling the story.)
Writing scenes featuring tall snowbanks and icy cold winds brought me back to my childhood growing up in Maine; while I’m sure the snowbanks were nearly as high as I remember them to have been, the cold is something no one truly every forgets. Nor, perhaps, that peculiar squeaking sound super-frozen snow makes when you carefully pick your way over it. There were several points in the manuscript where I found myself apologizing to Sean and company for being forced to relive some of the worst moments I remember, but in the end, I feel as though the scenes ring true.
All I can say is this: there truly is nothing like waking up in your home in the middle of the night with the dread of knowing the power is out, and along with it, any chance of staying warm for the duration of the snowstorm raging just outside your window…