Seven o'clock in the morning as I sit in front of my computer with the window open and all kinds of ideas rolling around in my head. My current wip is winding down. If all goes well, I'll finish it this week. This short romance will be coupled with one by award winning novelist Molly Noble Bull.
Anyone who knows me knows that I think romances are the hardest thing to write. When planning and writing a mystery, you connect the dots. Your job--whether as reader or writer--is to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. The crime doesn't have to make sense to anyone but the guilty party. Only he knows why he targets red-headed, left-handed ballet dancers who are addicted to slot machines. The police can't figure him out. Potential victims don't know he's a threat. And his mother thinks he's the sweetest thing since strawberry preserves. But underneath that gentle facade lurks the soul of a madman.
Yes, with a mystery, anything goes. The more outlandish, the better.
But no one can answer the age old question: Why do fools fall in love?
That's why writing romances are hard for me. They don't make sense. You probably can't tell me why you fell in love with your spouse or what keeps you in love with him after all these years. You probably don't understand why you always went for the bad-boy types, while your more discerning friend went for the one with potential earning capabilities. But I love writing romances. Even more, I love reading them. Apparently I'm not the only one since the only thing more popular at bookstores and libraries than inspirational reading is romance.
So back to work. I hope to immerse myself in my story which isn't even titled at this point, and not come up for air until it's finished. I'll let you know how it goes. Hopefully by this time next year, I'll be holding the finished book in my hands and trying to remember why it gave me so much trouble.
Have a great week.