Till something better comes along

I remembering hearing some author bloke on the radio (don't ask who, I haven't got a clue) and they were asked, "Of all the books you've written, which is your favourite?" There's a small pause and then the bloke replies, "The one I've just finished is always the one I love the best. Every time I finish a book it's always the same -- that one's my favourite."

I am not like this. The book I hate the most is the one I'm currently writing -- whichever one it is -- the book I think I'll never live up to is the last one, and the one I like the most is the one I'm going to write next.

Even if I wasn't keeping an maniacally obsessive eye on the word count of NDC I'd know it was getting close to the end (deadline is fifteen days away -- AAAAAAAAArgh!) because I've started having happy little thoughts about Logan's fourth outing. Scribbling down little snippets of dialogue like, "What's wrong with your inspector?"

"He's a grumpy fat bastard, and he hates you: that's what's wrong with him."

And having happy daydreams of eviscerated bodies and political infighting. According to my delusional subconscious, the next book is going to be great.

I thought the same thing when I was about to start DYING LIGHT, and NDC too. And no doubt by the time I'm halfway through Book 4 I'll loathe the thing, but as soon as I get near the end I'll start thinking Book 5 is the greatest thing since God invented boobies.

Is it just me, or does that seem unhealthy to anyone?

And what about you: do you love your current project, or are you twisted too?