Yesterday, after rather more last-minute wrangling than I expected, I put the first draft of the new novel, the tenth in my Italian series, to bed. No, let me be more precise. The narrative is there in its entirety, beginning to end, characters, events, locations.

That doesn't mean it's 'finished'. In a way books never are. But I have the fundamental structure in place and it feels pretty good (not that another living soul has seen it or will for a little while).

What happens next?

<!--more-->Nothing. It's safely stored and backed up online. I do not intend to go near it for a week or so. After that I will print it out and read it on paper, where it will look different and demand any number of revisions, most I suspect minor copy editing (at least I hope so).

Setting your work to one side is a wonderful idea. You come back to it refreshed. You see things you never saw before. And, much as you order it, your subconscious carries on mulling over the story in your head. With any luck when you do look at it anew you see possibilities that weren't there before.

In an ideal world books would be like wine. We'd lay them down for a few years then take them out for checking and adjustment then lay them down a few years more before releasing them into the wild.

We don't live in an ideal world. I want this book wrapped up when I'm back in Venice in May. I've something else in mind to write after that.