What To Do After Finishing A Book
It has been quite an eventful month--one of those rare culminating periods where many longstanding goals were accomplished almost all at once. As the darkness of night turns into daylight in Riverside, California, I thank God for such things. Happy endings and hopeful beginnings parade through my mind. It's a new day, within a new year... and my project calendar, frankly, is pretty light. Should I keep it that way? I can't help but wonder, "Now what should I do?"
That is the freeing question I often ask myself after completing a major creative project. I just finished creating and publishing my newest book, Silly Daddy Zine #1. It clocks in at 50 pages long, and the art on those vibrantly loaded pages took over a year to make.
Now that work is completely done--whether I like it or not. I can't even go back and edit the book since it was published as rare digital art on an un-editable blockchain. Therefore completing this blockchain-based book presents a chance to reexamine myself from a fresh perspective. The project has come to a close and I can't help thinking, "Now what?"
In fact, after every book I have finished, all sorts of grand questions cycle through my mind. Perhaps I should start on the next book right away to keep the momentum going. Maybe I will never make another book again. Perhaps I should make art out of all the Southern California beach drawings I have drawn and photographed in the sand--from Long Beach to Santa Barbara. Maybe I will take up surfing. Maybe I round up the family and take a day trip to a SoCal beach we've never been to. Maybe I go on a quest to find the exact old spot in Malibu where the character Jim Rockford lived on the TV show, the Rockford Files. Maybe I don't have to do anything. Maybe... maybe I should take it one day at a time.
As long as the minutes keeps marching on, the creative explorer possibilities are quite endless. There is a power in such things and an exciting opportunity. It's an attractive open door. The true future will always be an unopened book--just out of reach. That's the one book I can never truly write.
