And that means I need to move on to the next stage of writing, I suppose. I think it's going to involve lots of notecards taped to the wall, binders, sporks and tissues. And maybe even a little writing.
Seriously, I have my three books outlined (and two of them partly written). I have themes that seem to evolve marvelously from book to book. Character arcs that intertwine and twang against each other. A growing cast of characters. A magillion quotations from Women Who Run with the Wolves copied in my notebook for future inspiration (mostly I read that book and say, "WHAT? How does this woman know what's in my mind and soul? How do these folk tales from random cultures know? Maybe Yeats was right! No, no, Yeats canNOT have been right, the kook... hmm...."
So where do I go from here?
I guess I finish reading my inspiration books. I gather maps of the southwest US and botanical information on said locale. I reread what I have written (that's where the sporks and tissues come in I bet) and remind myself I wrote it all during NaNoWriMo and KNEW plenty of it was placeholding filler crap at the time. I figure out what character development I still need to play around with, and what organizational methods I still need to try out, in terms of plotting out story and character STUFF that is threatening to come spilling off the pages of my notebook, a million inked letters spilling off the page like letters are wont to do in the PBS show Word World (which we only watch for five minutes while I file the baby's nails... that's right, my baby gets a mani and TV... full baby spa service!).
And I figure out WHERE I want to start writing (rewrite book one? Jump back into book two, where I left off or reworking things a bit, since that one ended when I was too frustrated and too busy nursing the baby so often to type?). And then....