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Okay, now that NaNoWriMo is over, I find myself with an odd dilemma. Should I keep writing Homeworld exclusively until I finish the first draft, or is it acceptable to start working on other projects, too?

One of the side effects, as it were, of NaNo is that I’ve got a renewed enthusiasm for writing in general. In particular, I’m really excited about using the writing skills I’ve picked up in the last few years to do solid second drafts of Between Heaven and Hell and the first book of the Unification Chronicles Trilogy, Mistaken Identity, with an eye towards shopping both around literary agents and landing a nice fat publication deal (BHH plus a 3-book deal for UC). I’m ready, now, to start taking this seriously and be a grown up about my publishing career.

Plus, I’d like to work on possibly expanding Do Over! into a full size novel, extending the first 30,000 words or so of The Ghost that I have so far into a novel, and oy, have I got story ideas crying to be written!

All of these are more interesting to me right now than finishing Homeworld. All imbue me with more passion for writing. So what’s wrong with switching off to one of these projects, keeping myself writing, and come back to Homeworld when I have less of a hangover about it?

Partially, the fear.

I’m tired, no doubt about that. Hard to write 50,000 words—50,008, to be precise—over the course of a month and not be tired. Since November ended, I’ve managed a scant 400 word a day average. But that’s not what’s stopping me on Homeworld.

It’s the fear.

I’m at a point in the book where I have no clue what happens next. No fricking clue. None. At first I had the realities of the Mars Direct plan to guide the story, then certain stuff on Mars I wanted to explore. I’ve done all that. Now the characters move to…

See, that’s just it. I got nothing.

There’s nothing ahead of me in this story. Just a big yawning abyss. The next stage of the story is pure imagination, and I can’t see it. I’ve tried, I just can’t see it.

Josh thinks it’s performance anxiety. I’ve known this was coming from the very beginning. I’ve known there was a point I’d have to leave what we know about Mars and move to what I imagine about Mars, and I’ve built it up so much in my mind, put so much pressure on pulling this off, that I just have nothing. Can’t pull the trigger.

He’s probably right, and I know how to get out of this. I really do. The magic of “shitty first drafts” and “and then what?”. If I just bull my way onward eventually the story will reveal itself or it won’t.

But why bother, I keep wondering. I mean, I have some real excitement and passion to start rewriting Between Heaven and Hell, and I see some really interesting possibilities revisiting this book not only ten years after writing it, but post-9/11, post-Wikipedia, post-YouTube. A lot of that book is going to change, for the better—not to mention fixing some plot holes that in retrospect I could drive an oil tanker through—and I can’t wait to get to work on it. I’m literally bouncing with the idea of taking this tentative, stiffly-plotted story and writing it anew with all the skill and intuition I’ve gained over the last ten years as a writer.

So why not go with the hot hand? Bench Homeworld for now, let my subconscious figure out what’s down there under the Martian surface and spend my time more productively getting my first novel ready for real paper publication?

Or am I just chickening out?