Drawing A Blank

Dorchester Publishing is about to start a new speculative romance line. Spec romance is new to me. But I have a little time on my hands before having to dive knee-deep into revs on DRAMA. So, what the heck, right?

An idea came to mind. I noted it out, started to get really excited about it and got as far as the synop and a page of chap 1. Then I drew a blank.

The synop wasn't polished. But I felt like I was stepping on my own toes by screwing and chopping paragraphs. It's why I moved on to start the first chapter.

But by page two of the chapter, I just lost interest.

Literally, my interest went from 60 to O in a breath.

I sat staring at the screen, mustering the gusto to keep at it. The story idea was pretty cool - way out of my realm because it was a futuristic romance - but not a total stretch for the genre. But nothing, zilch.

P's mind has left the building!

For years, I wrote whatever I was told to write for clients. I've written full-scale marketing materials for industries ranging from hospitality to wireless technology. Give me a few tid bits of fact and I can spin those suckers into a good story or an informative article.

So why the sudden creative crash?

Even as I stared at the incomplete sentence on the screen, I knew.

In three years (or less if my agent can make it happen) I want to be a full-time author. No more "day time" gig. But, if I'm going to do it and not have writing turn into the drudgery of some of my other career choices, I've got to really want to create a story, develop characters I care enough about to speak for them.

For whatever reason, maybe it was struggling over the synop. Maybe it was doubt that some of the futuristic elements left questions I couldn't yet answer. Or maybe, I felt myself jumping into something too soon after the Offer.

Sorry, just feels like that should be in caps.

But for whatever reason, the wind left my sails before I could get the boat going.

My mind is a wonderfully, white-slated blank.

For the first time in three years I'm not fretting over if the manuscript is just right. Or if I should start a new manuscript to get more under my belt.

My first three manuscripts (my onlys) were 100% organic. I saw the characters in my head as clear I can see my hand in front of my face. The stories wrote themselves.

Corny? Hokey?

Maybe.

But true.

Call it a quirk, a flaw or just P being P, but I can't manufacture a story.

I guess this means I won't be doing a lot of books on spec or packaged deals. That may hurt my pockets in the future. An author can't live off one advance every few years.

And muses are fickle, little curious creatures.

But, I trust this will all work itself out.

I have a million, well not a million, but plenty of story lines for my current Del Rio Bay Clique characters from DRAMA. And a few ideas in mind for a sequel or two to my third book, BAD, BAD CHICK.

Hmmph...maybe the slate isn't as blank as I thought.

Okay, nevermind, go back to what you were doing. I just had this idea...