Here’s the problem with writing a sequel: You really need to remember what happened in the first book.
I’m currently RE-READING the first book AS I’m writing its sequel and I’m having trouble keeping up. With myself. My past self. My past self had more time and brain power and less children and more coffee.
Damn you, past self.
So my CampNaNo project has stalled out, waiting for me to finish reading what I wrote so I can write what I will write so past me and present me are prepared for future me’s horrible editor’s notes that say things like:
“Are you the same person who wrote the first book because NONE OF THIS MAKES SENSE!”
It’s a time-travel issue. Obviously. I’m just messing with the space-time continuum and screwing myself over in the process.
Here, (current) me, read this and get back to (future) me:
Not too long ago and partially in this very chair, I wrote a book that I can hardly remember now but somehow think I can write a sequel to.
