Delilah and I encountered an email snafu, so her arrival was a little delayed, but no matter the day, I'm happy to welcome her.I'm sure she'll notice a familiar graphic that I highjacked from her blog. :) Ladies and Gents, I present....
Where do books come from?
Way back when I was just a reader and want to be author – about a year ago – I always wondered where writers came up with their stories. I read every book I could get my hands on about writing a novel. Then my imagination took over. I began imagining my favorite authors locked away with stacks of 3X5 cards; gluing pictures to them of hairstyles, clothes, furniture, filling them with notes on the characters likes/dislikes, education, family life, and description, and naturally each chapter had its own note card.
I’d started many projects and always lost interest halfway in and abandoned it. I just knew if I could get organized like those fabulous writers I’d idolized – I could finish something. April 15, 2008 I sat down and started typing – I didn’t expect to finish it but I did. I couldn’t stop the words from flying out of my fingers. I wasn’t going to submit it, but a friend informed me if I didn’t she was going to kick my butt. So I did, assuring myself it would be rejected. It wasn’t! I was actually offered a contract on the story!
I started taking classes online to improve my writing and learned the most amazing thing! That while there are authors who do the outline/3X5 cards/excessive research, there are authors who are “pantsers” or the description I like best they “write in the mist”. Like me they sit down and start writing, they have a general idea – who the heroine is, who the hero is, what the basic premise is and then they sit down and see where the story takes them. I learned that neither style is better or worse than the other – it’s just the way a writer writes.
So where do books come from? Both plotters and pantsers agree on one thing – a book comes from the heart and soul of the author. They come from a snippet of overheard conversation. They come from a song or a movie. They come in dreams, visions, and by simply asking what if.
You Gotta Read rated by You Gotta Read Reviews
4.5 Roses from Roses for Writers
Now Available from Red Rose Publishing! www.redrosepublishing.com
Sarah Beauchamp was sent back in time from 2008 to observe Mobile, AL prior to the civil war. Her mission would take a year for her but only be a few hours for the TDC. Ten years later she is still in the past with no idea what happened.
When Matthew Barrington locates her for the TDC, she has to face the possibility of returning to the future or staying where she is.
“Sarah? You’re really here with me, this isn’t another dream?” He looked so desperate. “I can’t take it if I wake up and you’re a dream—again.”
My heart pounded so loudly in my ears I was sure that he could hear it. He’d dreamed of me, in the nightmare of the last two years, he’d dreamed of me. I stood, walked to the parlor door and locked it. “I’m not a dream.”
As I returned to him, I unbuttoned my shirt dropping it on the floor, toed of the slippers I was wearing, dropped the pants and stood before him naked. I held my arms out to him. He was holding me in an instant. The rough wool of the Union Army uniform was rough against my skin, the buttons pressed painfully into my breast, his arms steel bands I couldn’t have escaped if I wanted to, and I didn’t want to. Then his mouth was on mine.
It wasn’t the gentle teasing kiss of before; this one was powerful, dominating, demanding, and desperate. I returned the kiss with everything in me, wrapping my arms around him and holding him as tightly as he held me.
We sank to the floor, the wood hard beneath my knees. Then he was laying me down on the floor. His hands began to caress me from shoulder to hip, then back up the front. Following in their wake was a wave of desire and need so powerful I moaned into his mouth. Thought became impossible as my blood turned to fire, igniting every cell. My womb clenched, needing him inside. There would be time for gentleness later. Now we both needed this fast, hard, and claiming.