Last night, I finally had some quiet time after my husband went to bed, rather early at 9 pm I might add, and I'd planned on writing for about an hour and then hitting the hay myself (so weird how they call going to bed, hitting the hay).
Well, inspiration struck. Hard. 5 hours and 3,000 words later, my eyes burned, my back throbbed, and my hands looked like they belonged on a balloon float in the Macy's Day Parade. But, I was pleased as punch with the chapter.
I've discovered the scenes that inspire and flow the best for me: the fight scenes, intense emotional scenes, and of course, the scenes fraught with sexual tension. Thank goodness since I'm a romance writer. Last nights chapter was filled with the latter.
"Where does it all come from?" I'm asked this question all the time. And honestly, I don't have a damn clue. I fell in love with books as a teenager when I picked up my first Harlequin Romance. Since then, imaginary characters have real conversations in my head. Sometimes with me, other times with other characters.
I'll let you in on a secret. Until I started writing and allowing the voices in my head out, I always thought I was a little crazy.