Buried Deep (crime: set in York and Hull) was the subject of a scary last-minute plot disaster. It was close to finished when a terrible thing happened. A major plot line dived into an irretrievable dead end. There could be no way out. What was the protagonist to do? How would this book ever end?
Then just before I'd torn out all my hair, it dawned. I'd fallen for one of my own red-herrings. It wasn't a dead end because of what thingy had said to so-and-so way back when ... and that time where the villain of the piece had said ... and the thing with the doo-dah ... and so on. Whew! Relief.
When I plotted the new novel I was determined to keep it nice and simple - an everyday tale of mayhem and murder with a nice twist or two but nothing to scare the pants off the author on the last lap.
That was the plan.
The plotting process was simple enough, but the devil - as they say - is in the detail. Has it worked out? Who knows? It's at that edited first draft stage where I can recite it by heart without it making any sense at all.
The stage - in fact - where it is ready to go out to its beta readers, a valiant group acknowledged in Buried Deep to whom I am eternally grateful for their insights and honesty. Take a deep breath, guys! Tiger Blood is heading your way.