Hi fellow readers, writers and in-betweeners,
When I decided to start writing emails to potential readers, I compiled a list of subjects with which I’m familiar. And it goes as follows:
- Horses (Thoroughbreds and Quarter Horses to be specific, although I might mention one of my rare experiences with an Appaloosa colt that nearly turned my husband into a popsicle.)
- Writing from the hip. (More on that later, but for all those pantsers out there, take heart. You’ll reach the end if you’re patient. Sometimes the characters lead you on a merry chase, but they get there sooner or later.)
- Ghosts and paranormal encounters. (Believe it or not, I don’t believe the world is black and white. I’ve seen a few gray areas worth mentioning … which is likely the point of this endeavor. More later.)
- Business and Free Enterprise. (Or more likely, free spirits who think outside the box rather than be chained to a desk or conveyor belt.)
- Travel, which falls somewhere into the realm of adventuring for the sake of it. (I’ve been known to drive five or six hours to look at boats without ever setting sail, and don’t even get me started on crossing the country in a moving van to help a friend.)
Now, if any of those subjects interest you, hang on. This could be the beginning of a rocky ride, but another adventure I’d be happy to share with you.
Fact is, I’m a storyteller. I discovered that I’d found my niche, the first time I made someone laugh—and cry—with a rough draft. I’ve always loved a good story, and like I mentioned earlier, I’m a panster. What that means in my case, every story I write begins with a single scene. Not a plot, not a theme, not even a genuine motive behind the scene.
It’s like walking into a movie theatre and seeing a guy—or gal—sitting at a bar. Right there, you start filling in the blanks with what you see (a seedy bartender, a cracked mirrored glass behind a row of half-full bottles with names like Mad Dog or Captain Morgan. The broken mirror tells you right off, somebody has seven years of bad luck coming, and that’s always a bad omen.
That, by the way, is what happened in the first paragraphs of EXPOSED IN THE SHADOWS: He Who Plays. The scene transformed after a few re-writes, but Natalie and Liam were born in those first moments.
Someone once asked me how I come up with my ideas, and I shared this simple truth—it always begins with a single scene, and a sense of emotional investment. Natalie was almost as angry as she was depressed to see her Highlander husband in the rowdy waterfront pub, and the story just took off from there.
If you’re a writer, you live for those moments when the characters come alive, and you’re just along for the ride. Hopefully, if you’re a reader, you’re thrilled by the same, and I can only hope that you’ll join me for the next installment of my newsletter—or email—or blog.
(Much as I’ve tried, I can’t decide on the difference between the three, so who knows what format the following messages will take. I haven’t even decided whether this will reach my website or your mailbox if you’ve touched the subscribe button.)
More to come, either way!
May all your mysteries have happy endings! Or just satisfying endings!
Take care!
J. K. Grueber
