After a night of inactivity, I was back in the writing groove. There were six hundred or so words written the night before, but I wasn’t feeling it–well, I should say, I wasn’t feeling it enough to be able to do the sex scenes I wanted to do. I found myself part way into the hot and heavy, and then . . . Ugh. It was time to rest my head.
Last night was a bit different. I needed a few to get into the swing, with a few distractions along the way to make it even more exciting. Sort of like, there’s sex–oh, look! More sex–oh, look here! Finishing up the sex . . . yeah, time to put on different music.
But what happened next? Well, the blurb on my chapter card says, “Keith and Elektra Get to Know Each Other.” Since I started out with sex, this means they get to know each other after the do the deed, and that means talking so someone doesn’t fall off to sleep. So they started talking, and the question came up about Keith’s writing. Elektra makes a comment, and Keith makes one, a little back and forth, and then comes up the question of why Elektra was at the same company, and how she arrived in Las Vegas because it wasn’t Las Cruces–
This is where it gets strange.
I didn’t give my thought to where Elektra was from. I knew she wasn’t native to Lost Wages, but I didn’t know where she was from. So, when I got to the point of her saying, “Because this isn’t . . .”, I knew I needed a place. So I opened Google Maps and began to zoom out. Where is she from? What did she do? What does she want? Well, that last I have some idea about, but the other two–nada.
Then it hit me: she’s from the desert. From an environment like Las Vegas, but not. Something hot and dry and . . . in the middle of nowhere.
New Mexico. Hey, it was good enough for atom bombs and gigantic ants, so it’s good enough for my character. I even had her starting in Alamogordo, because–giant ants. From there she went to college at UNW in Albuquerque, then went to work in Las Cruces and, for a short time, Socorro. After that it was time to move to the bright lights and big city, and she packed up her stuff and lit out for Vegas.
Which brings her to where she is in my story.My
This is how my mind works: things just come to me. The character didn’t speak to me; I wasn’t getting hints from Elektra directing me to have her start out in California, or Arizona. No, that only happens to a few crazy people I’ve met on Facebook, who seem to think that their character control the story, not them–which is probably why these people are not always good about their writing. I mean, if some part of your mind is actually controlling your story, where’s your incentive to be creative?
Tonight I get into the ideas in the dark. Going to be interesting to see where that goes–
Not that I don’t already know.