“I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.” ~Douglas Adams

I am on a self-imposed deadline. I’ve set a goal for myself, and I am a very goal-driven person, especially when it comes to my writing. (Cleaning my house, losing weight, exercising–not so much.)

Back in January, something happened at my Day Job that got me to thinking “what if.” If you are a novelist, you know that wondering “what if” is a crucial part of your toolbox. Then I dreamed about the “what if.” I woke up, scratched out the opening scene to a story then dashed off to my RWA chapter meeting, where I read that scene during critique. I received a favorable response. And, as a joke, the working title became Dysto Girl.

I spent my annual January writing retreat working on Dysto Girl. I’ve since tossed quite a bit of what I wrote, because what I thought the story was going to be and what the story has turned out to be are two different things. I am obsessed by this story. By these characters and their situation. My critique group tells me their “Spidey sense is tingling.” And I dream about the story nearly every night. Not because I want to, but because I am a writer and sometimes this happens to me.

Oh, I was distracted in April when one of my publishers put a call out for a Summer Attraction short. I even brainstormed a great idea with my editor. But Dysto Girl sucked me back in.

I have given myself until the end of June to complete the first draft. Okay, maybe July 4th–Independence Day. But after that, I must start work on a three-book series I promised one of my publishers. And I’m excited about the series. I’ve been making notes. I already had the opening line and the basic premise  in mind when I was approached to do the series. I’m not under contract, but I promised, and to me, that’s as good as a contract.

Dysto Girl is not the book of my heart, but the book of my dreams. Literally.