Sequels can be treacherous territory. There’s the danger readers will think you’ve run out of new ideas and there’s the risk that you laid your characters so firmly to rest in Book 1 that they defy resurrection. My Future Homemakers though seemed potentially ripe for a continuing story. Now, in my 70th year, I find old age interesting, maddening, sometimes sad and often great fun.
The first hurdle in sequel writing is to re-read the original book. Who on earth wants to sit and read their own stuff, especially when it was written twenty years ago? I live in hope that I’m now a better writer. But we must face our demons so read it I did and I found that Peggy and her friends still had plenty of living to do. Peggy became, amongst other things, a welcome vehicle for me to write about dementia, my husband’s affliction that now shapes every minute of my day. So three cheers for sequels. Or two and a half, at least.