Writing Romance While Steaming Veggies…and other woes…
Most people think being a romance writer is very romantic. Try writing a love scene when your husband is steaming cabbage or making hearty chicken soup. Or how about when the oatmeal overflows or the pot goes dry?
I think that’s why most romance writers I know write in the middle of the night or early in the morning before the house is awake…The neighbors upstairs are musicians, and one is a pediatric night nurse, so even that isn’t reliable. There are some days when a trip to my favorite coffee joint works best, or when I have to turn up my music, wear headphones, or burn candles…
Yes, we adjust.
I’m amazed by those younger writers who have babies or smaller kids at home. Or teenagers who return at all hours of the night! How they manage to get their writing goals accomplished is a miracle. I could have never written when my four kids were small. Or when our female Doberman had puppies. Or while we remodeled the house. I have it pretty easy now.
Ah, but the fullness of life brings stories. Like when the painters took signed books for their wives, or when a reader stopped me at an airport in Hawaii just to say hello in front of my family. It isn’t like having my picture on shopping carts at Safeway when I was a Realtor, but it was a fun moment.
And those of you who love to write know when inspiration hits you in the middle of a church service, and you have to make notes on the back of a pew offering envelope. At least I didn’t tear out a page from the hymnal. Inspiration comes from all places, any place that allows this devious brain to think. A friend of mine used to write during her daughter’s volleyball practice. And she writes murder mysteries.
My antennae are bent, as I’ve said many times. It does pick up odd frequencies, but that’s expected, even required of a great writer.
I’m working on two books at the present time. I have one foot on the beach with a SEAL and another tracing with a hunky dark coven vampire.
And then I go to sleep with my husband of 48 years. I think he’s somewhere in-between.
Live, sleep, and read boldly, I say!
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