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We used to have chickens here at LakeWatch, and one afternoon I remember looking out my front window to see a crow and one of my hens engaged in a tug-of-war. Each had an end of some poor worm in its beak, and each refused to give up its prize. It was a comical sight, as my fluffy blond hen went eyeball-to-eyeball with that equally determined crow. Needless to say, the worm was the ultimate loser when it finally snapped in half. Both birds quickly swallowed their treats, then immediately began hunting for their next victims—acting as if the wild-domestic interaction was a common occurrence.
Another time, I was sitting on my back porch when it suddenly dawned on me that my crows were being unusually raucous. I sca
So what does any of this have to do with my writing? Well…if you’ve learned anything about me these past few years, it’s that I have a powerful appreciation for animals. I can’t help but draw parallels between my feathered and four-legged friends and people—especially the characters in my stories. From observing Mother Nature, I have come to expect the unexpected. It no longer confounds me to be writing happily along, blithely headed down my intended literary path, and have one of my characters suddenly do or say something I hadn’t anticipated. Sometimes I don’t even realize what’s happened until after it’s happened!
Jack Stone caught me completely off guard when he first stepped onto the page. The guy was pointing a high-powered rifle at Megan and Kenzie, for crying out loud. I don’t care that it wasn’t loaded; that was not a nice thing for my hero to be doing.
At this point—which was quite early in the story—I wondered if I was even going to like Jack. Would he be one of those characters who caused me all sorts of trouble, or would I fall head over heels in love with him myself? Honestly, I am very open-minded when it comes to my stories; I’m just as curious to see what’s going to happen next, when I’m writing, as you are when you’re reading. After all, if I already know how things are going to turn out, why spend months locked in my studio merely toying with the details?
I don’t meticulously plot out my books, or use a storyboard or scene cards. Heck, I don’t even know my full cast of characters when I type “Chapter One” on that first page. (Please don’t mention this to my editor, as she’ll likely have a heart attack!) For me, telling a story is as unpredictable as life itself; I have no way of knowing what’s going to happen tomorrow or next week or next year, much less in the next chapter.
We can certainly try to plan our future, but how often does it unfold exactly as we envisioned? And if we could know the future, would we really want to? If a caterpillar knew it was going to be some bird’s di
When we open our eyes each morning, we understand that the decisions we make today will shape our tomorrows. And so it is with my characters. They are just as hopeful as we are that the choices they make will be the right ones. Should they go next door and ask that cute guy if they can borrow a cup of sugar? Should they finally hand in their resignation at work? Should they sign up for that business class they’ve always wanted to take?
My characters might think they’ve got their lives all pla
I so fell in love with Jack Stone.
Did you?
Until later, from LakeWatch,