Late November 2024.

Back in Italy, I’ve visited friends in Venice, and am now working on the next mystery in Florence. Surrounded by so much beauty, I have to discipline myself to work until noon morning before I can go out for a long walk.

I’m in the rewrite stage of the book. I finished the initial draft months ago, and am now going through it again, struggling to make the book to stay in the confines I initially gave it.

Do other writers get blindsided by new scenes that appear out of nowhere; new characters who peek in the windows, new landscapes that offer themselves?

What is this wild-spring stage of bursting ideas that can come anytime of year, enticing you to to follow new roads?