Wait. That’s not how You get Your Ideas?

Sometimes, when I’m still waking up, I have pretend conversations with famous people about how much they like my as of yet unpublished books. It’s one of those things my subconscious does to make me feel better about life. I guess. Usually it makes me feel like I’ve not accomplished what I set out to do. Turns out my subconscious is an asshole. 

But this morning the pretend conversation with a celebrity that will remain unnamed to protect any semblance of privacy my subconscious has left actually yielded something awesome. 

Everyone knows I’ve been lamenting the novel I queried. It’s no secret. Or it shouldn’t be. If it is I’m not being blatant enough in my disgust for myself. This morning, I found the character’s voice.

It happened by accident. Starting the second novel with her, that didn’t. That was my intention. For the love of all that is sacred, when the imaginary version of someone you think is amazing tells you that they loved a character you haven’t created yet, you get right to the bit where you create that character. At least I did. 

So, character created. He’s smooth. He makes you want him. I want him. My protagonist wants him, though she’s trying very hard to resist. She wants to know what he is first. The whole lover fucking her over by fucking a demon thing is still a little fresh in her mind. The nerves are raw. The heart still bleeds. There will be no more of that. Well… maybe. We’ll see. I won’t rule out mind control as an eventual possibility.  Because it is always a possibility.

Just like a strange man showing up in a blue box is a possibility. Is it likely? No. Does that mean I won’t spend a bit of time procrastinating while thinking about the possibility? No. 

All right. Enough of that. I have spent the majority of the day putting words down on the beginning of the new novel. Working title Lost in the Woods. It fits for so many reasons. The best part? Now that I know her voice, I can go back and fix the first one. I have a jumping off point. Sure, it took me an extra few thousand words to get it right, but now, now there’s no problem with it. Other than the needing to fix it up. 

I’m more than willing to do the work though. It will get me where I want to be. And maybe that imaginary conversation I had, maybe that will become real. 

A girl can hope. 


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