I think about the characters in my Winter War story, their lives and emotions, their place in the world. I’ve made them and have a responsibility to tell their story well. So guilt is a good motivation to keep trying to improve the book. That and the laughably slim chance that someone will read and enjoy the story and want more. I’m not sure whether writing is a creative act or an act of revelation. In my case, it felt like the story was there and my only job was to keep chipping away at every extraneous bit of stone until the soul of the story was there, exposed. I miss my characters, getting in their heads and seeing the world from their eyes. I still don’t think I do them justice but I want their story to be heard.