I've just finished another novella in my color-ghost series for Stepping Stones, The Golden Ghost. I say I've "finished" it. By that I mean I've sent it off to the editor, Jennifer Arena, for the first time. As hard as I work to send in a completely clean manuscript, every aspect of character and plot thought through, every i dotted, every sentence focused and smoothed, there will, no doubt, be further work to do.

In fact, I've also just finished assembling a lecture for the July residency at Vermont College of Fine Arts, and one of the things I will talk about in that is the process of working out the trajectory for The Golden Ghost. As I laid out what I had difficulty with and what I discovered in the process of writing and rewriting, I realized that I hadn't yet fully played out in the story what I had come to understand. Jen told me, when she received the novel, that she had four books already on her desk so that she wouldn't be getting to The Golden Ghost immediately. Now I have to decide whether to pull it back and make sure my newly clarified thinking plays out fully in the story before she reads it or whether to wait for her suggestions and then tackle both. The decision will be based, more than anything, on whether I can finish some other projects before she gets to it.

After I completed what I call the first-final draft of The Golden Ghost, I turned to text for another picture book with the photos of naturalist Stan Tekiela. I have an assortment of Stan's photos of baby animals and an idea from the publisher for something called The Cutest Critter. The concept has what I once heard a sales rep for one of my books refer to as "the aw factor." In other words, adults, upon finishing reading it will say, "Aw-w-w-w!" Beyond "the aw factor," though, which is easy enough to tap into, especially with Stan's stunning photos, my first attempt at a text feels pretty flat. I have more work to do on that one before I show Stan and Adventure Publications what I have.

I mentioned last time that I was thinking about writing a sequel to Runt. Increasingly, I'm turning away from that idea. It certainly isn't going to happen before I begin work on the prequel for The Very Little Princess as I have a contract for that and am running out of time. The problem with writing a prequel, I can already tell as I gather my thoughts before beginning to write, will be that as my ideas evolve I'm going to want to make changes in the already-completed book . . . something I can, of course, no longer do. I've never considered working backward before, and this, of course, is why. For a story to evolve, its dimensions must remain fluid, and the final act of this story is already set and immutable.

The research I've been doing to prepare to begin writing The Very Little Princess: Rose's Story is about bi-polar children. It's territory I've very intentionally stayed out of until now. One of my grandsons, Connor, is bi-polar, and I have always chosen not to learn much about the condition. My daughter-in-law, Katie, is a pediatric nurse and Connor is surrounded by other professionals as well, so I've figured she didn't need any half-informed-because-I've-read-a-book opinions from me. My best role, I've decided, was simply to listen, to love and to support. But writing fiction has a funny way of taking me in through the back door of topics that draw me—even if I've made a conscious decision not to go there—so that's where I am.

I have a picture book in process with Scholastic called Dinosaur Thunder. It has a curious history, because an editor bought it many years ago and then never moved toward finding an illustrator for it. At last, she has contracted with a fine illustrator, Margaret Chodos-Irving, and the book will be out in Spring, 2012, just in time to embarrass thoroughly the grandson I wrote the story about. Brannon was three when I wrote about his fear of thunder. He will be fourteen by then! That's all right. It's every grandparent's responsibility to embarrass a grandchild now and then.

Now . . . back to writing!