A few years ago, I wrote a story that ended up being called Dragon Dust. I thought of the ending first, as I often do, then filled in the beginning and middle later. The idea came suddenly and was written quickly. I don’t often do that.
It was set in an imaginary world, nothing too flashy, just a medieval-style village high in the mountains. It was autumn. There were dragons.
It got published by Vignette Press and received a couple of lovely reviews. I am still extremely chuffed.
Almost as soon as it was written, I thought there might be another story to be told about one of the minor characters. But who writes a sequel to a freaking short story? It was clearly a ridiculous idea and I dismissed it.
The world of Dragon Dust stayed with me and the second story kept suggesting itself. When I was at the Emerging Writers Festival Roadshow a few weeks ago, I had an attack of festival inspiration and whipped out the netbook to throw down some thoughts about the story.
I’m so glad I did, because now I’m using them as a basis to work out the bones of this story.
Luckily I have a lot experience doing things that seem ridiculous by every other measure except that they feel right to me. Because yes, I’m writing a sequel to a short story.
Seriously, who does that?
Me. I do that.