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WHAT KEEPS ME WRITING?
What keeps me
writing? That's a great question and one my writer friends and I have been
talking about lately. For me, the short answer is "to get to the ending."
The same thing that keeps me reading a book. The ending -- the big 'awww...'
(spoken as if you're looking at a newborn baby or a tiny kitten or puppy.)
When I come up with an idea for a book, usually it's the wrap-up of the
emotional story, what a lot of people call the denouement, that I get
first. For instance, in A FATHER'S SACRIFICE, coming out in October 2007
from Harlequin Intrigue, my idea grew from the concept of a widowed father
whose little boy's only chance to walk again is the neurological interface
he's working on for the military. Problem is, a domestic terrorist group
wants to get its hands on the technology to sell to the highest bidder.
My vision was
to have the father, the child and the beautiful computer expert the
government sent in to protect the interface, walking out of a dark tunnel
into the light.
So, as happens with every one of my books, I had
the ending. I just had to write the book.
I've
discovered that there are two places in writing a book where I can easily
convince myself that I don't know how to write and that I will never be able
to complete that book or any other--ever again.
The first is
at the end of Chapter Four. By that point the hero and heroine have been
introduced and the Big Problem is established. After Chapter Four comes the
Middle-of-the-Book. For me, the hard part. This is where "stuff happens." I
have to remember what I'm aiming for--my ending, and work to put as many
obstacles in the hero and heroine's way as possible. They have to work for
their happy ending.
The second
place is around page 200. At that point I find myself thinking "I have
nothing else to do except write the climax and wrap up the emotional story.
I'll never get to 270 pages." After a few moments (or a few hours) of panic,
I remember that 60 or 70 pages is barely enough time to do justice to the
climax and the denouement. So I'm good to go until I start writing the next
book.
As far as
motivation to keep writing . . . I have so many stories in my head,
that I feel like I'll never run out. I love to
create, and writing is more satisfying to me than anything else I've done.
So to get the stories out of my head and to get the satisfaction of creating
something, I write.
Right now,
there are a bunch of guys in my head--none of whom exist in real life. Okay
well--Johnny Depp, Gerard Butler, and Pierce Brosnan are real. But the
others are figments of my imagination. I'll introduce you to a few of them.
Some of you already know one or two.
There's Dev,
who has a secret so damning that uncovering it will destroy him and the kids
he's sworn to protect.
Rick is a
police detective in New Orleans who is trying to find his brother's killer
while fighting the suspicion that he's a dirty cop.
Storm is
running as fast as he can away from his Native American roots, but it
doesn't do much good to run when you're dragging around what you're running
from.
Chris only
wants one thing--the child he left behind five years before. But he knows
he doesn't deserve to be a dad.
Danny grew up
on the mean streets of New York, and watched his father and brother live and
die violently. He knows he carries the same genes--so he lives in fear that
their violent streak lurks
inside him.
Those are a
few of the people who live in my head. Is it any wonder that we writers HAVE
to write?
There's one
more reason I write. A perk I wasn't aware of when I first started putting
my stories on paper. The community. I have so many wonderful friends whom
I've met because of writing. At conferences, via EMail, my local
chapter--through writing I've made lifelong friendships with people I might
never have met otherwise.
Writing has
opened up for me such a vast and interesting world of new friends--real and
imaginary--that there's no way I could ever stop.
Now I just
have to keep reminding myself of that when I hit one of those rough patches
in my next book.
What Keeps Me Writing
© 2007 Rickey R. Mallory
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