Posts Tagged ‘muse’

Stuck In My Head

When I’m putting my toddler to bed, I use the time to think about my stories. Basically, it takes close to an hour, the room is dark, I can’t read or take notes… so I think things through and then race to the computer to type it all out as soon as he’s asleep.

The last three nights, I’ve had a particular image stuck in my head. There’s a man in his forties. He’s hiding a briefcase in an old house. Then he writes a note. The scene cuts to a nice house in a different neighborhood. Kids playing in the yard. Two police office come up. The lady of the house answers, covers her mouth in horror at what she hears. Cut scene to the first house. She’s cleaning things up, throwing out most of what she finds. She finds the briefcase. Inside is a whole hell of a lot of money.

Since I am working on an erotic steampunk, and I don’t write thrillers, you can see why this mental image isn’t doing me any good. I hope writing it down here will be like it is with song lyrics, whereby sharing it will get it stuck in someone else’s head.


And No Snow, Either

February 25, 2010 Leave a comment

Both my child and my husband decided they were exhausted last night… before 10 PM.

Let me back up. You can train yourself to write with inspiration at any hour, I know. All you have to do is sit down at the same time every day, and eventually, that’s the time ideas will start to flow.

Me, I’ve got a toddler and three part time jobs. I don’t get the same time to write two days running.

When I think of all the time I wasted in my childless, single days, I die inside. “Oh me, oh la, someday I shall be a real writer instead of a marketing hack/journalist/columnist, but today I am going to read the entire archive of Something Positive.” Or “I just know I could be a novelist, but these three straight hours of Law and Order: SVU will not watch themselves.” I suppose I could defend myself by saying that while I watched television, I always had a cross stitch project. I made four baby blankets and an elaborate Christmas tree skirt. Yes. That’s how much time I wasted in front of basic cable Law and Order reruns.

I have not watched any television at all since early 2008, when my kid arrived on this planet. I couldn’t tell you what he does that takes up all that TV time, but he does it. Whatever it is. The only cross stitching I’ve finished since his baby blanket was a tiny little Christmas ornament with a snowman.

But back in my 20s, during my occasional spasms of Being A Fiction Writer, the ideas always flowed best from 10 PM to 1 AM. That just seemed to be my most creative time. I never meant to write at the time of day, exactly, but the time stamps on my saved files tell the tale.

Having what I remembered as my most creative time line up with my available time was like fairy dust falling from the sky. And the snow that was supposed to fall from the sky here in Maryland never fell at all.

Last night was a good night.

Categories: Thinking, Writing Tags: , ,

Two WIPs? Can You Do That?

February 23, 2010 Leave a comment

I have a txt file on my desktop called “ideas.” Whenever I have an idea for a story, I just toss it in there. I should say whenever my husband has an idea, I toss it in there.

I have been working on a story called The Toybox ever since I submitted The Widow. And man, it feels like work, too. The idea is fine. It’s original. I like my characters a lot, especially the hero – he’s a resourceful son of  gun. But I sit down in front of it, and if you’ve ever had to clean maple syrup off the floor and then wring out the rag over the sink, you have some idea of how difficult it is to get the words to drip out of my hands.

My husband was listening to me natter on about what a particular publisher was saying they wanted to see. One of the genres is something I’ve never written. With his head in the refrigerator, he tossed out the most brilliant, fascinating, awesome story idea in that genre I’d ever heard. He proceeded to prove he’s been listening to me blather on about romantic conventions by saying “This is the internal conflict, that is the external conflict, and the dark moment could be this over here.”

I tried so hard to work on Toybox this morning. I am somewhat confused to be staring at a document with the first page of something called All Wound Up, but it poured out of me, along with thumbnails of the next three scenes. I don’t believe in muses, but good grief, something interesting is going on.

Categories: Thinking, Writing Tags: , ,