Monday Musings-What happens when I stray from my roots!
More than once, I’ve commented on my writing ‘style’ or maybe the lack of having one. I write from the gut and heart. Character development? Yes. Plot. No. Premise? A must!
After completing Cold Day In Hell, book two of the Lost and Found, Inc. series, I found myself back at square one. A stand still. Watching the damn blinking cursor. Convinced I’d never have another original thought.
This third book is Marcus’s story. Broken but mending, quiet but deadly, Marcus.
Oh, and I can’t forget Diablo. 
If you read Hell Or High Water, you know Diablo has a role in this book. Adding a dog to the mix isn’t new to me, so that wasn’t the problem. After all, one of my favorite characters in The Green-Eyed Doll was the no named dog. So why was I struggling?
The new story started with Marcus going home to clear out his deceased father’s house and getting drawn into solving a string of murders.
Have you ever put on a pair of shoes, loved the look but hated the feel. This story didn’t feel right for one of my Lost and Found men. The premise is great, and I have a sexy guy name Rafe Sirilli in mind for that book. But this wasn’t for Marcus.
I started a second story. Now, let’s stop here. I NEVER start and stop stories. I work up a character sheet, devote a lot of time on the first sentence or two, and get the premise set firmly in my head and start writing. For me those first few sentences are critical to the book.
So what the hell were Marcus and his dog doing in Mexico, icing down a case of beer for a fishing trip? And who was the woman screaming? An okay premise, but it didn’t set my mind on fire! Which, by the way, is necessary for me to get into a story.
Enter my critique partner, Barb Han. We not only critique each other, we chat, discuss our work, and on occasion, solve world problems. During one of these calls, I mentioned another writer’s book. I had absolutely loved it. My always “I’ve got your back” agreed. But it was what she added that caught my attention. Without hesitation, she added, “You’re way better in the killer’s head.”
Bam! There it was. 
The back of the head slap like DiNozzo gets from Jethro Gibbs on NCIS.
The answer was right in front of me. How had I strayed from my roots? I’d been developing stories without getting inside my villain’s head first. He or she is vital to me. To build a story for Marcus, I had to know who and why the killer existed.
The next morning, I stepped away from the computer, took a pencil and notebook, and got to know my killer.
Thank goodness. 
