After your first book is finished, the next question shortly after you finished is: 'What will you write next about?'
At the first sight, it is an optimistic view of your potential. Somehow, writing can be compared with a gargantuan appetite: the more your write the more you want to continue writing. And your head is bubbling of subjects that hardly can be kept inside your crane.
On the other hand, the question can be seen as an unpleasant intrusion into your life. Do the person asking it know exactly what does it mean writing a book, how much pain and sacrifice can be behind any single sentence? Very often, after such an effort that can also involve the members of your family, longing to spend a normal and relaxed evening with you, all you want is to relax as normal people do: sleep, drink a glass of wine and have a good meal. And sleep again. Not sure if reading can be included on the daily schedule, at least for a while.
As someone who published at least one book and is regularly writing at least one academic article the month, I dare to say that the truth is in between the extremes. I love so much the feeling when the work is done and my book is out in the air - to be read, on Amazon.com - that I want to get the best momentum for continuing writing to more projects. When I am happy I can always write easily and good articles. But, because of other family and work obligations and some limits that I want to set myself- such as dedicating more time to documentation or eventually improving my English writing skills - I don't have any choice but delay some of them, even though in some cases the projects are more than 2 years old. I am not happy with that and I promise to behave better the next year, but I can't do anything. I need time between projects, while trying to respect my limit of one book the year. At least for this year I am done, but hope to finish another one in the next 60 days and thus, I also did some of the home works for the last year.
To be even more honest, my love for writing is sometimes taken by my enormous love for reading. Especially when I am working to certain topics, writing almost everything available on the subject can be seen as a desire to tackle my work as serious as possible. But, to be honest, it also means that I am somehow delaying the moment when I will have enough courage to say the things in my own words. Call it denial, but it is not a wasted time, this time spent while reading other people's words. Very often, I can find a lot of inspiration to start new projects on my own and to move forward with other topics I am writing about.
The world of words is not a normal one; there are some rules - grammar rules especially - but as long as we depend of imagination and talent, there is not easy to keep a strict schedule. I am the very strict type of writer, that needs to have things done in time and taking the deadlines as serious as possible. But, on the other hand, I know that being too strict with my writing schedule can influence negatively my inspiration, and as long as I do not have a contract to respect for the delivery of my manuscripts, I try to keep my pace and do my writing when I really have something to say.
I hope that my time of inspiration has come and the next months will offer me the occasion to finish some of the projects already started. It is a good feeling that I am trying to consider as carefully as possible. It may sound as a very empty discourse, but it is how I feel right now. Full of energy, but careful to use it properly, for good and valuable things. Believe me or not, but moderation can be of good use, after all.