I was having a problem with the WIP, sort of that point where you go “is this really any good?” So I had a long talk with Marty on Saturday and I’m feeling a little better about it now. I’m going to try to re-write the prologue from Nathan’s point of view instead of Travis’. It’s going to be difficult to do it without giving away too much of the story – the “is he Everett or not” part of it. But I’ve been thinking about it, and I have an idea of how I’m going to do it.
In other news, I’m thinking about only posting on Monday, Wednesday and Friday for a while – starting next week. It’s becoming more and more difficult to try to find things to blog about. And my blogging stinks. Sorry. I wish I could get around more like I used to, but part of it is the depression. I’m going to talk with my “meds” people and see about switching anti-depressants because this doesn’t seem to be working very well. I haven’t been able to do most of the things that I enjoy – like reading and writing and blogging, oh my! And that’s not good.
Hope y’all have a good Tuesday.
Showing posts with label The Devil You Know. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Devil You Know. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
Love Story
I love the exhilaration when a story is flowing, and that’s what happened to me Sunday. I’d been having trouble with the character of Maddie, my heroine. I couldn’t get inside her head. After spending that afternoon with Bebo, bouncing around ideas, I finally put together a “10 things about Maddie” page, and that really helped. I came back home and wrote 708 words. Not a lot, but more than I’ve done in a week. And it felt good. So good that I put together similar pages for Nathan, Travis and Clare. I’m in love with this book again.
So, my fellow writers, are you in love with your current project?
So, my fellow writers, are you in love with your current project?
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Just a Ramblin
It’s Tuesday and I have nothing to blog about. That’s not supposed to happen until Thursday. Is Tuesday going to become the new Thursday? That wouldn’t be so bad, because then it would be Monday, Tuesday, Friday and THE WEEKEND! So I guess since I have nothing to blog about, you’re going to get one of those rambling posts of mine with no rhyme, reason or focus – I know you love them, come on, admit it. I’m sorry Toni, I didn’t quite catch that? Christa, quit moaning. We had snow on Saturday. Yes, you heard me, snow. A blizzard in fact, but the ground was too warm for it to stick – it had been in the 80s only a few days before. It is very, very rare to have snow in April. Susan, please, contain your excitement. Hey, I could have cut and pasted another silly joke, but here I am actually trying to talk to you, my blogsters, my subjects. I didn’t work on the book today – well, I didn’t write today, but I did think about it and that counts. I’m trying to work out a problem that y’all created with your choice as the opening scene for Nathan, but I’ll get it. Its okay Brandy, I’ll just think of it as a challenge.
Hey, did I tell you that I’m finally offici
al – I’m now a member of RWA, I think. At least I received an email invoice with a number next to my name, so forgive me if I’m a little confused. I’ll know for sure when that welcome bundle arrives. I know Jeanne, Bailey confused – it boggles the mind.
That’s it. That’s my blog post. You try it – a wonderful post 7 days a week, 365 days a year. Go ahead, I dare you.
Tomorrow, Bubba blogs.
Hey, did I tell you that I’m finally offici
al – I’m now a member of RWA, I think. At least I received an email invoice with a number next to my name, so forgive me if I’m a little confused. I’ll know for sure when that welcome bundle arrives. I know Jeanne, Bailey confused – it boggles the mind.That’s it. That’s my blog post. You try it – a wonderful post 7 days a week, 365 days a year. Go ahead, I dare you.
Tomorrow, Bubba blogs.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Characters
First, I wrote over 500 words Sunday - not much, but better than nothing. You people have put me in a quandry. I had no scenes linking those two excerpts, so now I'm busy filling. Hmmmm. Meanwhile, here's what the The Devil You Know storyboard looks like.
You can also tell because of Bubba (who is not a small cat) how big it is. I not only use pictures of actors/actresses, but also images to describe my character. For instance, on "Nathan's" side is a photo of a man in a chair smoking a pipe. Actors are good because then you can find pictures that often "go" with your story, like George Clooney running from the exploding car in
the movie "Peacemaker". Now, Nathan was in the car, not running from it, but it still fits. I have a lot more "image" pictures on Maddie's side (played by Kimberlin Brown) because finding pictures of her I like was hard to do, but I have enough. I also have houseplans of the various homes, plus a store, etc. I do this to keep myself from going the wrong way - you know, turning left to the bedrooms instead of to the right. Obviously, I'm not finished with it yet. I've changed the secondary character of Travis, so will have to fix that on the board and the cover (which I showed here). A cover, if you don't remember, is what is used for traveling, small enough to fit into a laptop case, for example.More below.
Maddie, Nathan, Travis and Clare
I thought I'd introduce you to the two couples of The Devil You Know.
Nathan Phillips and Madison "Maddie" Delmont
Travis McNeil and Clarice "Clare" Delmont
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Nathan, part 2
Yesterday you read the original intro to Nathan - here's the new one. So, which do you like better? Remember, this is raw. Arthritis in my fingers keep me from writing notes in long-hand, so these are essentially my notes.
Nathan stepped out of the alley and onto the walk, tightening the duster around him as the winds from the cooling spring rain whipped around him. Oblivious to the puddles dotting the sidewalk, he walked to the next curb and into the alley opposite the bank of shops. Across the street, the storefronts were dark, closed on a rainy Sunday afternoon. A couple walked by, hands clasped as they strolled, window shopping as they made their way further downtown. Glancing up, he noted that the loft apartment above the store seemed still, no lights on to pierce the afternoons gray skies. No cars were parked in the area reserved for tenants of the converted living areas above the stores. No one home. What would I do if she’d been here? Walk up and knock on her door. Say ‘hey Madison, you don’t know me, but then maybe you do’? Madison Delmont. He didn’t know what she looked like, didn’t remember her face. Travis hadn’t wanted to show him a picture, wanted Nathan to see Maddie in person first, maybe shock him into remembering. But he didn’t need to see her to know that he would remember her. He found his way here by himself, walked the streets of Dallas without hesitation, unerringly drawn to this block, to her business and loft above.
He’d see her soon though. This afternoon he would be heading out to McNeil’s ranch outside of the little town of Serenity. From there the real journey would begin. He’d meet Maddie; see if he recognized her face, her smell, her smile, her life. See if he fit in there anywhere, if she was the answer to the puzzle in his mind.
Leo had wanted to do it another way. Look at pictures, listen to tapes and watch videos … read tarot cards. His lips lifted in a slight smile. Leo hadn’t wanted to expose him to others just yet. Contaminate was more like it. Leo didn’t trust him, shouldn’t if what they thought was true. But Travis wasn’t willing to give in to doubts.
Leaning against the building, he watched the street, eyes hidden behind dark glasses. His lithe body propped against the concrete wall, black duster flapping in the breeze, he continued to stare up at the loft across from him. A drop of moisture hit his cheek and he reached up to wipe it away, only to find the area dry. Odd, I could have sworn … he stopped when it happed again. Relaxing, he began to breathe deeply, letting the gap in the doors of his mind widen. It was dusk the last time he had stood in this spot. A cold steady sprinkle left watermarks on the black coat he had worn. Nathan looked down at his gloved hands, no longer empty, but holding a sleek black gun, a silencer attached to its end. It felt right, smooth and solid in his grip. His hand tightened on the gun as he lowered it closer to his body. Glancing up at the second floor across from him, he saw a woman’s silhouette through the blinds, pacing back and forth in the lamp light, her shadow never wavering from in front of the row of windows. Moving away from the wall, he stepped into the street, eyes still focused ahead. At the blare of a car’s horn, he jumped back onto the curb where the shadows once again swallowed him. Nathan shook his head and brought empty, bare hands up to his face, wet now not from imaginary rain drops, but sweat. He was trembling, his whole body racked with shudders. Where had that come from, his mind stumbled for a few minutes, then blanked as the doors closed firmly.
Nathan stepped out of the alley and onto the walk, tightening the duster around him as the winds from the cooling spring rain whipped around him. Oblivious to the puddles dotting the sidewalk, he walked to the next curb and into the alley opposite the bank of shops. Across the street, the storefronts were dark, closed on a rainy Sunday afternoon. A couple walked by, hands clasped as they strolled, window shopping as they made their way further downtown. Glancing up, he noted that the loft apartment above the store seemed still, no lights on to pierce the afternoons gray skies. No cars were parked in the area reserved for tenants of the converted living areas above the stores. No one home. What would I do if she’d been here? Walk up and knock on her door. Say ‘hey Madison, you don’t know me, but then maybe you do’? Madison Delmont. He didn’t know what she looked like, didn’t remember her face. Travis hadn’t wanted to show him a picture, wanted Nathan to see Maddie in person first, maybe shock him into remembering. But he didn’t need to see her to know that he would remember her. He found his way here by himself, walked the streets of Dallas without hesitation, unerringly drawn to this block, to her business and loft above.
He’d see her soon though. This afternoon he would be heading out to McNeil’s ranch outside of the little town of Serenity. From there the real journey would begin. He’d meet Maddie; see if he recognized her face, her smell, her smile, her life. See if he fit in there anywhere, if she was the answer to the puzzle in his mind.
Leo had wanted to do it another way. Look at pictures, listen to tapes and watch videos … read tarot cards. His lips lifted in a slight smile. Leo hadn’t wanted to expose him to others just yet. Contaminate was more like it. Leo didn’t trust him, shouldn’t if what they thought was true. But Travis wasn’t willing to give in to doubts.
Leaning against the building, he watched the street, eyes hidden behind dark glasses. His lithe body propped against the concrete wall, black duster flapping in the breeze, he continued to stare up at the loft across from him. A drop of moisture hit his cheek and he reached up to wipe it away, only to find the area dry. Odd, I could have sworn … he stopped when it happed again. Relaxing, he began to breathe deeply, letting the gap in the doors of his mind widen. It was dusk the last time he had stood in this spot. A cold steady sprinkle left watermarks on the black coat he had worn. Nathan looked down at his gloved hands, no longer empty, but holding a sleek black gun, a silencer attached to its end. It felt right, smooth and solid in his grip. His hand tightened on the gun as he lowered it closer to his body. Glancing up at the second floor across from him, he saw a woman’s silhouette through the blinds, pacing back and forth in the lamp light, her shadow never wavering from in front of the row of windows. Moving away from the wall, he stepped into the street, eyes still focused ahead. At the blare of a car’s horn, he jumped back onto the curb where the shadows once again swallowed him. Nathan shook his head and brought empty, bare hands up to his face, wet now not from imaginary rain drops, but sweat. He was trembling, his whole body racked with shudders. Where had that come from, his mind stumbled for a few minutes, then blanked as the doors closed firmly.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Nathan
The Devil You Know is a story of a man struggling to find out who he is through the fog of amnesia. Is he Everett Rush, a traitor to his country, an Agency assassin, or something much worse. As far as Maddie and Travis are concerned, he’s Everett – because sometimes it’s better the devil you know, than the one you don’t.
When I first wrote this book I fell in love with the character of Travis, which isn’t good when that’s not the hero, Nathan Phillips. The problem was how to get into the head of a man who had no memory. Nathan turned out to be too somber, too full of angst. I decided that maybe he still had a sense of humor. Yeah, that would work.
Below is the original scene in which you meet Nathan. Your first impression. I’m going to use it as a flashback later, btw. But anyway, you’ll see what I mean tomorrow when I post the new introduction of Nathan. Remember, this is raw and unedited.
The swish of the door woke him. Keeping his eyes closed, he listened as the nurse busied herself about the room. Breathing slow and steady, he waited until she had left before opening his eyes. The tiled white ceiling, the same one he had stared at for close to a year, came into focus. The hospital was quiet in the pre-dawn light, so quiet as to be almost deafening. He lay still for a moment, gathering himself for the coming day. The dreams from the night before stayed with him, clinging to his mind like wispy cobwebs; cornstalks, a large house with many halls and
doors, everything turned into mazes. Stretching, he winced as pain shot through his left leg. Running his hand across his face, he rubbed out the last of the cobwebs, ignoring the ridges that lined his cheeks. He never felt so alone as he did upon waking, when memories reached out but eluded his grasp. No matter how disorienting the mornings were, however, it was the black of night that terrified him. Sometimes he dreamed of the accident, the pain so intense to be almost real. Those dreams woke him in cold sweats, his heart pumping wildly beneath his chest. But those night visitors weren’t the nightmares that robbed him of sleep, for the accident was real, and real things could be grabbed and dealt with. It was the seemingly benign, the places, flashes of people’s faces, not clear enough to hold on to, to trust as memories, instead of imprints of someone else’s life. These were the true demons of the night.
When I first wrote this book I fell in love with the character of Travis, which isn’t good when that’s not the hero, Nathan Phillips. The problem was how to get into the head of a man who had no memory. Nathan turned out to be too somber, too full of angst. I decided that maybe he still had a sense of humor. Yeah, that would work.
Below is the original scene in which you meet Nathan. Your first impression. I’m going to use it as a flashback later, btw. But anyway, you’ll see what I mean tomorrow when I post the new introduction of Nathan. Remember, this is raw and unedited.
The swish of the door woke him. Keeping his eyes closed, he listened as the nurse busied herself about the room. Breathing slow and steady, he waited until she had left before opening his eyes. The tiled white ceiling, the same one he had stared at for close to a year, came into focus. The hospital was quiet in the pre-dawn light, so quiet as to be almost deafening. He lay still for a moment, gathering himself for the coming day. The dreams from the night before stayed with him, clinging to his mind like wispy cobwebs; cornstalks, a large house with many halls and
doors, everything turned into mazes. Stretching, he winced as pain shot through his left leg. Running his hand across his face, he rubbed out the last of the cobwebs, ignoring the ridges that lined his cheeks. He never felt so alone as he did upon waking, when memories reached out but eluded his grasp. No matter how disorienting the mornings were, however, it was the black of night that terrified him. Sometimes he dreamed of the accident, the pain so intense to be almost real. Those dreams woke him in cold sweats, his heart pumping wildly beneath his chest. But those night visitors weren’t the nightmares that robbed him of sleep, for the accident was real, and real things could be grabbed and dealt with. It was the seemingly benign, the places, flashes of people’s faces, not clear enough to hold on to, to trust as memories, instead of imprints of someone else’s life. These were the true demons of the night.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
The Story
Like rumbling storm in the distance, the voices are starting to gather force, breaking through this lethargy that has encased my brain these last few months. Yes, the story is beginning to speak to me, conversations drifting through my mind, situations flashing before me; I’m finding myself beginning to drift into day dreams full of suspense, heroes, heroines, side-kicks, love, drama, a little comedy. Yes, a little. This isn’t Operation Eden, but rather an old love titled The Devil You Know, a romantic suspense that it almost 70% finished anyway. That is, if it weren’t for the fact that I’ve started re-writing it. But it doesn’t matter, it’s calling to me anyway and I’m going to answer it. Wish me luck.
For you writers: Do you have an old story that you’ve gone back to and finished; or are thinking about going back to pick up again?
Readers: Is there a story that you began to read only to not like it, but then for some reason picked it up years later and loved it?
The winner of the copy of Smart and Sexy is Jennifer Y. Email me with your address and I'll get this out soon. Congratulations!
Oh, and just for the heck of it, here's a very, very raw excerpt from the prologue. Travis Montgomery has come across a car on fire, a car that belongs to his partner Everett Rush, a man that may be a traitor. And it's real raw here - unedited.
As flames began to lick at his face Travis reached for his hat to beat them back down. The man moaned as screams erupted from the back seat. Travis, torn between the two men, tossed the hat aside, and concentrated his efforts on the deadweight at his fingertips. The black smoke blocked his view of the man’s face, but Travis could see spots of orange and yellow peeking out from behind the thick clouds. His lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, spasms of coughing causing him to loosen his hold and back out of the car for a few cleansing breaths. Tears ran down his face from smoke stung eyes as he darted back into the front seat. With adrenaline pumping, he managed to pull the unconscious form half way across the car, and then had to back off anew as flames flicked across him.
“Dammit to hell” he screamed in frustration and then quickly dived back in again. This time he was able to get both hands around the burning form and, with one giant lurch, pulled the figure out of the car. Dragging his load over to the roadside, Travis rolled the man over, hands beating the fire which continued to burn the victim’s clothes. Sirens rang out from the distance as onlookers gathered. Checking the still smoldering man, Travis was relieved to feel a pulse. Standing up, he turned back towards the car and the other trapped man. Just then, the flames reached the gas tank and the vehicle rocked on its chassis. The fire had won.
Travis stood in the cold drafty alley and rang the buzzer above the intercom again.
“Hello,” came the breathless reply.
“Maddie? It’s Travis.” He pulled the jacket’s collar up around his ears.
“McNeil? What ... come on up.” A clicking sound unlocked the door and Travis stepped into the small foyer. Before him was the stairs to her loft, to his left the door to her store. I don’t want to be here. Letting out a slow breath, he climbed the stairs, pausing at her open door.
“Hey Trav, nice surprise.”
She looked beautiful standing there, her hair all tousled from sleep, the red robe tied snugly around her slim waist. He really hated what he had to do, but knew it would come easier from him.
“Mad, I’m sorry, it’s about Everett.”
Madison’s face paled and she clutched at the lapel of her robe, gathering it against her throat. “He’s been hurt, hasn’t he?” she whispered.
“He’s dead, Mad.” Travis hadn’t meant it to be so blunt, but couldn’t think of any other way to put it.
Madison stared at him blankly for a few moments and then her legs seem to give out. Travis grabbed her before she hit the floor, her body a dead weight in his arms.
For you writers: Do you have an old story that you’ve gone back to and finished; or are thinking about going back to pick up again?
Readers: Is there a story that you began to read only to not like it, but then for some reason picked it up years later and loved it?
The winner of the copy of Smart and Sexy is Jennifer Y. Email me with your address and I'll get this out soon. Congratulations!
Oh, and just for the heck of it, here's a very, very raw excerpt from the prologue. Travis Montgomery has come across a car on fire, a car that belongs to his partner Everett Rush, a man that may be a traitor. And it's real raw here - unedited.
As flames began to lick at his face Travis reached for his hat to beat them back down. The man moaned as screams erupted from the back seat. Travis, torn between the two men, tossed the hat aside, and concentrated his efforts on the deadweight at his fingertips. The black smoke blocked his view of the man’s face, but Travis could see spots of orange and yellow peeking out from behind the thick clouds. His lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, spasms of coughing causing him to loosen his hold and back out of the car for a few cleansing breaths. Tears ran down his face from smoke stung eyes as he darted back into the front seat. With adrenaline pumping, he managed to pull the unconscious form half way across the car, and then had to back off anew as flames flicked across him.
“Dammit to hell” he screamed in frustration and then quickly dived back in again. This time he was able to get both hands around the burning form and, with one giant lurch, pulled the figure out of the car. Dragging his load over to the roadside, Travis rolled the man over, hands beating the fire which continued to burn the victim’s clothes. Sirens rang out from the distance as onlookers gathered. Checking the still smoldering man, Travis was relieved to feel a pulse. Standing up, he turned back towards the car and the other trapped man. Just then, the flames reached the gas tank and the vehicle rocked on its chassis. The fire had won.
Travis stood in the cold drafty alley and rang the buzzer above the intercom again.
“Hello,” came the breathless reply.
“Maddie? It’s Travis.” He pulled the jacket’s collar up around his ears.
“McNeil? What ... come on up.” A clicking sound unlocked the door and Travis stepped into the small foyer. Before him was the stairs to her loft, to his left the door to her store. I don’t want to be here. Letting out a slow breath, he climbed the stairs, pausing at her open door.
“Hey Trav, nice surprise.”
She looked beautiful standing there, her hair all tousled from sleep, the red robe tied snugly around her slim waist. He really hated what he had to do, but knew it would come easier from him.
“Mad, I’m sorry, it’s about Everett.”
Madison’s face paled and she clutched at the lapel of her robe, gathering it against her throat. “He’s been hurt, hasn’t he?” she whispered.
“He’s dead, Mad.” Travis hadn’t meant it to be so blunt, but couldn’t think of any other way to put it.
Madison stared at him blankly for a few moments and then her legs seem to give out. Travis grabbed her before she hit the floor, her body a dead weight in his arms.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Tuesday Musings
Couple of questions from yesterday’s blog. Siobhan – Wallyworld is the nickname for Walmart. And yes, there are a lot of soap actors on my boards. I do this for two reasons. There are a few soap magazines and it’s easier to find them than to scan several “variety” type rags for one or two precious pictures of someone for my characters. I like to have several pictures of the person representing many moods, especially if I’m not that familiar with their work. Secondly, you can find more casual or action pics of soap stars. Scenes from the show, etc. In mags they’re more formal shots, posed for the sitting. Take yesterday’s “cover” (that’s what I call them). There’s a photo of my heroine Maddy aiming a gun, which she actually does in the book AND Clooney (my hero of course) running from a car explosion, only in the book he’s the one in the explosion. They add to character dimensions that I’m looking for. I also make up writing tapes/CD’s for each book. Some have words, others don’t. If I’m in the zone it doesn’t matter if there are words or not, but if I’m having trouble, am easily distracted then I have to go with instrumental. For example, on Maddie and Nathan’s tape is the Theme from Somewhere in Time and Etta James singing At Last. Since they are mysteries, you’ll also find songs like Smugglers Blues and In the Air Tonight. Ambience, so to speak. These books were about the Delmont siblings and Clare Delmont was the youngest. When she takes to the floor at the local bar, Stevie Ray V
aughan’s Look at Little Sister plays. It gives me a feeling for the character. This is another of the covers, the book is Gifts from the Devil. I’ll get back to them some day. They call to me every once in a while just to let me know they’re waiting.
aughan’s Look at Little Sister plays. It gives me a feeling for the character. This is another of the covers, the book is Gifts from the Devil. I’ll get back to them some day. They call to me every once in a while just to let me know they’re waiting.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Horrors of Horrors ... And a Happy Birthday too
(Cue Vincent Price type music)
So, we’re off to The House today. Can everyone say Yay? Thought not. This 2 – 3 hours every Sunday is going to take us forever. I think I have a little under a half of the kitchen packed, although if you ask me (which The Sister wouldn’t) all of that stuff will have to be disinfected before use. Everything. Altogether we probably have about 50% of the house packed. Then there’s the garage. Can everyone say Fun? Yeah, I saw that smirk. I’ve been told there’s a cabinet with a lot of their wedding gifts. Huh? Married for a little over 20 years, divorced for about 10 – when does one decide that wedding gifts should be used? Whoever buys this house (and it will be one of those “cash for homes” people) will have to do a lot of work. A.lot. Not to mention disinfecting.
Well, let’s see, what else is happening? Did I mention my toothache was back? Out with the cloves again. The writing has been sort of, well, um, it’s – OKAY I HAVEN’T BEEN WRITING. So there. I’ve realized what the problem is and I’ll be dealing with it hopefully this week. I haven’t done a storyboard on my characters. I’ve never written without one and in fact, didn’t have it on the last MS. Problems with it too. Anyway, I’ve also been doing some thinking about the WIP too. I’ve got a germ of an idea for Taylor’s story (my hero’s brother), and maybe for the series as a whole. I even have a small inkling of the first scene for Taylor. I’m also fighting an old demon. Yep, I’m thinking about dragging out The Devil You Know, which is the most completed MS I have. But that’s not quite true. It’s the most completed all right – it’s also the one that has to be reworked entirely. I fell in love with my secondary male character to the detriment of my hero, so I’ve got to go back and re-write it, or at least re-write my hero. And heroine. She ended up being a little wimpy, so she needs a backbone. And it’s not funny – I’m not sure if I’m going to leave it as a romantic suspense or entice it to the lighter side.
That’s it for awhile. I’m off to find a hazmat suit.
Oh, and ….
Happy Birthday Pam! I hope you have a great day. You’ve been a wonderful friend and deserve all the best there is.
So, we’re off to The House today. Can everyone say Yay? Thought not. This 2 – 3 hours every Sunday is going to take us forever. I think I have a little under a half of the kitchen packed, although if you ask me (which The Sister wouldn’t) all of that stuff will have to be disinfected before use. Everything. Altogether we probably have about 50% of the house packed. Then there’s the garage. Can everyone say Fun? Yeah, I saw that smirk. I’ve been told there’s a cabinet with a lot of their wedding gifts. Huh? Married for a little over 20 years, divorced for about 10 – when does one decide that wedding gifts should be used? Whoever buys this house (and it will be one of those “cash for homes” people) will have to do a lot of work. A.lot. Not to mention disinfecting.
Well, let’s see, what else is happening? Did I mention my toothache was back? Out with the cloves again. The writing has been sort of, well, um, it’s – OKAY I HAVEN’T BEEN WRITING. So there. I’ve realized what the problem is and I’ll be dealing with it hopefully this week. I haven’t done a storyboard on my characters. I’ve never written without one and in fact, didn’t have it on the last MS. Problems with it too. Anyway, I’ve also been doing some thinking about the WIP too. I’ve got a germ of an idea for Taylor’s story (my hero’s brother), and maybe for the series as a whole. I even have a small inkling of the first scene for Taylor. I’m also fighting an old demon. Yep, I’m thinking about dragging out The Devil You Know, which is the most completed MS I have. But that’s not quite true. It’s the most completed all right – it’s also the one that has to be reworked entirely. I fell in love with my secondary male character to the detriment of my hero, so I’ve got to go back and re-write it, or at least re-write my hero. And heroine. She ended up being a little wimpy, so she needs a backbone. And it’s not funny – I’m not sure if I’m going to leave it as a romantic suspense or entice it to the lighter side.
That’s it for awhile. I’m off to find a hazmat suit.
Oh, and ….
Happy Birthday Pam! I hope you have a great day. You’ve been a wonderful friend and deserve all the best there is.
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