Writing your first book is a buzz. Writing your second book is the buzzkill. The day I finished my first book, I stood up from my chair and bellowed like a methed out Klingon, “Today, I am a writer.”

I thought my second book would flawlessly eject from my being like Nacho Bell Grande fart. I sit here, humbled. Back then, I was partially employed and had oodles of time to write, but now with a full time job and a lot of non-writing work coming in, writing a 1000 words in one sitting is like passing a kidney stone.

And like the first love, you never love the same way the second time around. The first book’s trajectory was cellophane clear, but now this one is murky and offers many opportunities for me to stub my toe in the dark.  Now, I have to prove I’m still a writer and finish this work despite the setbacks and time constraints. I think the real test is sticking this out, not hectoring like a pro-wrestler about the beat down the publishing industry will receive.

Oh, but they’ve got it coming.

The second work is almost done, but I’ve come close to trunking it a few times. This child will need a lot of potty training and discipline. I’ve realized that my first draft foible is under-writing. My first drafts are often too skeletal and spare, so one the second one I have to fill in the details and expand most of the scenes. Most writers rarely have an ending in mind, but I’ve crafted a villain who is so deserving of her fate, I can’t wait to write it. Sadly, the villain is also true to life.

Anyone here struggling with their next great work? Do share in the comments below.