How to Break a Heart Without Breaking Quarantine
(This
blog originally appeared on Breaking Rules Publishing's
Website)
Welcome to my brief tutorial on how to write
a romance novel (or two) while surviving being trapped in a duplex
with three children under the age of ten. Normally, writing a romance
should be done in a glamorous setting: a Swiss chalet, cozied up
under a faux fur throw; digging your toes into the sand while the
waves crash in the background; anywhere you can sip a Manhattan.
(Including Manhattan.) Social distancing means you will need to bring
the romance to you. You will not have the luxury of being inspired by
your scenery unless piles of dirty laundry make you swoon.
Step
One: Gather your weapons
You’ll need a computer.
Don’t kid yourself. This isn’t the time for a leather-bound
journal and calligraphy pen. You will not have a spare moment to copy
down what you write from paper to screen. You’ve got one shot
before someone needs you to wipe their butt. Don’t blow it.
Coffee
is not mandatory but strongly suggested. You haven’t slept well
since before Obama was president. Wine is fine. You aren’t driving.
Nobody’s driving.
Keep a bowl of snacks nearby. Star
Wars fruit snacks, Funyuns, and squeezable apple sauce are
recommended. Obviously these are not for you but to hand to anyone
who inevitably starts whining that they’re hungry. Toss them as
necessary, like you’d throw meat to a lion.
Step Two:
Train your senses:
You’ll need to learn to tune out
the following noises: the bing-bing-bing of a
railroad crossing gate, forty minutes straight, since your
four-year-old is still obsessed with watching trains and he can only
do that now on YouTube. The sound of an entire Lego bin getting
dumped all over the wooden floor—you will step on them later,
barefoot. Brace yourself. Rustling in the kitchen—foraging is
encouraged because it means they’re not bothering you.
But
not these noises: water running—it might be someone washing their
hands. It is probably someone peeing on the floor. It is definitely
not the dishwasher because only you know what the buttons do or how
to run it. The bing-bing-bing that the
refrigerator is open. (It is a different pitch than
the bing-bing-bing of the railroad crossing;
learn to distinguish the two.) Screaming. There will be a lot of
screaming. You’ll need to separate the brawlers.
Step
Three: Set the Mood
Unless you have a partner willing
to watch your munchkins while you lock yourself away in your writing
dungeon or what have you—and if so, well done!—you will have to
be able to accept the cognitive dissonance of watching your children
WHILE trying to simultaneously visualize your characters gazing
deeply into each other’s eyes. You’ll have to change a training
potty but still envision a hot tub, or stir Spaghetti-Os but summon
up the smell of filet minon or crème brulee. You can’t very well
light a soft candle because someone will inevitably burn off an
eyebrow or set their sister’s doll’s hair on fire.
Vision
boards are great for this, so scour the internet for pictures that
remind you of the people or places that you want to include in your
novel. Obviously this is all a thinly veiled excuse to look up
thousands of pictures that you base the love interest on, but it’s
for your novel, so it’s okay, and you definitely aren’t a
stalker.
Step Four: Write, Maybe
You’ve got
your equipment and hopefully some inspiration and you are ready to
write that novel. The perfect scene will descent into your brain, as
if gifted by Cupid himself. The moment you go to type that out,
someone will have found the xylophone and begin to plonk out what
might be Three Blind Mice but all you know is the muse has left you
and so has your patience.
Repeat as often as necessary
until novel is complete.
No comments:
Post a Comment