Hand Me the Shotgun
Guest Post by, Lynda Cox
What is my writing process?
Every time I’m asked this question, I have to force myself not to laugh. I don’t have a writing process, per se. That process depends on the situation, what I’m writing, and how much my insomnia is affecting me. When an idea takes hold, the insomnia becomes worse than normal. Medication doesn’t affect my insomnia so when I’m on a writing binge, my pillow and I are very estranged. Fortunately, my writing space (which has to be considered a part of the writing process) is completely separate from the house. We have a small guest house that has been turned into my office. It has everything I need there to disappear for hours (okay…days) on end: electricity, internet, air conditioning, heat…
When it comes to writing I am not a linear writer. I also freely and without compunction admit to being one who writes by the seat of my pants. The one time I outlined a novel I put so much into the generation of that outline I exhausted the creativity.
Most of the time, my stories take hold in my imagination with a pivotal scene. I’ll get images in my head of the main characters in that scene and then the reporter’s questions start and I have a full blown conversation with the people in my head. “Who the heck are you and why are you here? How’d you get here? Where are you going? And you want me to write WHAT????” In the case of my first published book, Colt strolled into my head, hand in hand with Amy, and demanded—he certainly didn’t ask—that I tell their story. My first question in that game was “You do realize I’m writing a twenty page or better critical introduction to my master’s creative piece, don’t you?” and the second was “Why is that Peacemaker strapped down so low on your thigh?”
A.J. and Allison, from Smolder on a Slow Burn, came about very differently. They originally started life as a contemporary romance. And, that one started out as a reoccurring nightmare and the re-imagining of their story came the same way. I recognized both of them, even dressed in period clothing. And I know I stated very clearly that I was not reliving that again. Yeah, that worked well…
Anyway, my novels usually start out with one pivotal scene. For Smolder on a Slow Burn it was the scene during the thunderstorm when A.J. is suffering from a wicked flashback, trapped in the memories of the time he spent at a Union run prisoner of war camp and Allison finding him out in that storm, huddled on his knees, and not knowing where he was or who she was. After being plagued with that nightmare for several nights in a row, I gave in and wrote the scene, thinking if I just wrote that, I could kiss them good-bye. (Cue evil laughter from my Muse, now.)
Three weeks later, I had more than 60,000 words of a rough draft. From that scene in a thunderstorm on the Nebraska prairie I built forward and backward. As scenes came to me, I wrote them. Some of those scenes never made it into the rough draft, but I wrote them. I sometimes write more than 100,000 words for a 65,000 word manuscript.
I’m one of those writers that in the midst of the process will walk, talk, and at times, act out part of the scene I’m working on. (I’ve gotten pretty darn good at a quick draw, just for the record.) I also pace when I can’t get a scene to gel correctly in my head. I will pace from the guest house to the house and back, repeatedly, until I think I have it gelled. When everything is flowing, I have to have music. What kind of music I listen to really depends on the scenes I’m writing.
Because as I said earlier I suffer from insomnia, I don’t really have a set writing time. I write…I pace…I brush a collie (or three)…I write some more…I surf the Internet to verify or find a tidbit of information to add believability to the story line…I pace…I write.
And somewhere in that mess, I manage to come up with a romance novel.
Lynda J. Cox will tell anyone who will listen that she was born at least one hundred and fifty years too late, and most definitely in the wrong part of the country. She holds a master’s degree in English with a concentration in creative writing from Indiana State University after earning her BA from the same university as a non-traditional student. (Think being old enough to be mom to 90% of the students in her freshman cadre.) She’s kept busy with two spoiled rotten house cats, a 30 plus year old Arabian gelding who has been nicknamed “Lazarus” for his ability in the later years of his life to escape death, and quite a few champion collies. When she isn’t writing, she can be found on the road, travelling to the next dog show. She loves to chat about books, the writing life, and the insanity which is called a “dog show” and can be reached through her Facebook page at www.facebook.com/LyndaJCox.
Social Media Links:
lyndajcox.com (web site)
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