I was going to post this on NaNoWriMo, but since I frookin’ live here, I would give dopers the first crack at it. Being that you are all voracious readers and what not.
I started a particular story back in August of 2001. I hammered on it like a chinese gong like I have never hammered out a story before. Being that I have been writing nonstop ( until SDMB and Fark, Bastids) that says alot.
Everything just flew effortless from me. Things that I put in there that I said,
" Why am giving the heroine a fear of needles and a former minor foot injury in the past?" when a chapter later, the reason outted itself. It was like an out of body experience or something.
If I knew about NaNoWriMo then, I bet I would have taken this particular story start to finish line without hesitation.
Then September 11th happened. To say I lost my MOJO would be an understatement. Everyone globally did. My kharmic gong banging fell silent. Those freakin’ terrorists! It took me until the following spring to even think about a story line …any story line of the 20+ that I always have cooking in my cranium and started.
So I pick up this particular story again, which I refer to as “Joseph & Hanna” because it is easier to remember on file that way than come up with some deeply creative and witty title. Re-reading it over the past few days has made me realize that it is utter shit, but damn, I loves it. It is my shit. shit I created. :::sniff::::
Anyone who is a romance reader will know that the details do not have to be that tight to make it work. But it is a contemporary story that I’ve painted myself into a corner in a way that I need a freaking jumpstart on. I have to get through this scene and then I know where to take it. Really. I have to finish this story. Because I have follow up stories in my brain that are dying to get on paper and I promised Joseph and Hanna that I would not start any other stories until I got over this hump. Respect your inner muses, I always say.
The Problem Before The Problem
Anywhooo, I’m not sure if I should post the premise and the dilemma here, thus guaranteeing a definate instantaneous thread kill w00t! or troll for anyone who is interested to **email me ** and I will email them either what I have storywise (if they are truly bored) or the condensed version ( which will probably be less brutal.)
A woman that I thought would be a good real life bounce-off for my writing(s) has proven to be a dud Her writing style was nonexistant and her ability to review was worse. Maybe I have been jaded by the intelligence of Dopers. So because of your own collective smurts, it leaves me my only option of torturing a soul or two here. bwaahhahahahhahaha!
I do promise there is gratituitous sex and a totally inconceivable plotline that will make you go…uhhh huhhhhh…this is so fuckin’ stupid but yet, I cannot turn away… but I swear, they have things in common and there is humor. Oh and sex and Paris in the Spring time.
For anyone still reading this: Here is the tickler:
As stated, it is a contemporary romance. He is the richest man in the world. Only he looks better than Bill Gates. Why settle for only filthy rich when you can make them obscenely, stinking wealthy? She is a recently discovered free spirit who has nothing to lose (::snerk:
and is loving life. She is on a mission, so to speak. He thinks she is a spy to try to kill him or get info out of him. She thinks he is an anal retentive work aholic who had turned himself into a machine to forget the horrid brutal murders of his wife and sons.She has no designs on his money or learning the inside scoop to big business. Oh, and there is a terrorist who wants him dead and resorts, naturally, to pulling out all the stops to do so. did I mention she thinks is terminally ill…ooooooh, now we are out there like fookin’ Pluto.
If you are not laughing so hard and are intrigued to see what a trainwreck really looks like…my email is in my profile.
It’s not like you had anything constructive to do this weekend anyway. Help me plot an assassination & foil that plot. You are so much smarter than lowly Shirley. If you - yes you! - help me exorcize this blockage out of my mental colon, I will somehow slip your name -screen name if possible - into the dialog/plot/reference as a gratutitous asskissing.
