For the past two weeks, I’ve been working on a new YA mystery. A passion project (PP) with the working title of Solitary Boys. It’s about two estranged teen boys who becomes allies in solving the mystery of a girl’s disappearance. I actually stopped working on another book because I was so inspired by this story, I didn’t want to wait to get started. My original plan was to do Solitary Boys just until May 31st and then get back to the other book in June, in time to get it to my editor in July. But that’s been derailed. I’m going to continue working on Solitary Boys because I can’t not work on it. It’s re-energized my writing, given my deflating ego a much needed lift, and it’s so fun to write.
And get this — I didn’t outline the book. I outline all my projects, otherwise I screw up the story. But, with this, I decided to write scenes as I think of them, out of order. (I know the ending. I always know how my stories end.) I’m consumed by this story now. To the point, my husband is all cranky because I’m writing at night and not hanging out with him. *shrug* I write during the day, but it’s not enough. I’m going to end this post now, so I can get back to my work. It’s 8:32pm. If I hustle, I can get in another thousand words before bed.
And here’s the opening paragraph from the WIP. Enjoy!
Troy Byrne fishtailed the ’92 Acura NSX onto the gravel drive, kicking up gray shale and dust. His stepfather probably would’ve had an aneurysm seeing how Troy handled the sports car if he hadn’t stopped caring about the vehicle a few years ago. The novelty of dropping seventy grand on a car lost its luster quickly for men of Jerry’s tax bracket. “They make them with CD players now,” Jerry had said before handing Troy the registration and insurance card.