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Powering Through the Wall

Stop by RT Book Reviews blog to read more about the pony play behind Her Grace’s Stable!

That last scene was a killer.  It took me a good 3 days to get through it, and my momentum has been dogged ever since.  We had a full weekend and the next two weeks are going to be balls-to-the-wall at the Evil Day Job.  That means longer hours, less lunch, and more stress headaches at the end of the day, which saps my desire to then pull out my file and spend more time on the computer.

But I’m still pushing ahead.  I’m still adding new (unplanned, grrr!) scenes and working through some of the backstory that decided to pop up a little.  I never knew I’d be pulling on the almost five years we lived in MN to write this book, but it’s been very helpful.

There’s also an Easter egg for those of you who’ve read The Billionaire Zombie’s Virgin Witch.  *winks*

Right at 59,300 for The Billionaire Submissive and 64,700 for the month.  PLUS, I also worked on the Coyote Con website this weekend AND stared the schedule.  Woot!

Snippet:

“Some Mistresses don’t believe in giving any pleasure to the submissive.  The sub exists for his Mistress’s pleasure, not the other way around.  If he’s not on his knees worshiping her with his tongue, then he hasn’t learned his place and must be punished.  I’m not that kind of Mistress.”

He accepted the new stack of papers and even dropped his gaze to them, but his eyes didn’t move across the page.  He’s not reading them.  Yet.  “I won’t deny there’s a certain appeal to that image.”

“The sub on his knees or me punishing you on your desk?”

He smiled faintly but it didn’t quite reach his eyes and he didn’t meet her gaze.  “Both.”

“But..?”  When he shrugged and flipped the page, even though he couldn’t have read it yet, she said what he could not yet bring himself to admit.  “You’re hoping for a Mistress who’s as eager to give pleasure as receive it.”

She’d never seen such a powerful and obnoxiously gorgeous man blush so prettily.  Again, that shrug, without lifting his eyes from the page.

“If I had your pants down around your ankles, I’d have to give you a blow job you wouldn’t soon forget.  While I punished you.”

There, his eyes met hers, all searing intensity and pulsing with rising desire.  “You would do that?”

For me?  He didn’t say the last two words, but she heard it and it broke her heart.  She was beginning to believe his arrogant asshole role was just a mask he wore to protect the inside submissive who feared no one would ever be able to love him as he was, no matter how much wealth he possessed.  “Absolutely.”

His gaze wandered to the door briefly, as though he was contemplating locking it so he could test her honesty.  When he looked back into her face, she didn’t like the shield he wore once more.  “How much is it going to cost me?”

It took all her will not to reveal how much that hurt.  He’s only striking out to make sure I don’t hurt him first.  It’s his natural survival instinct.

But it still sucked.

Keeping her voice light, she gave a nod to the papers he’d been pretending to read.  “You tell me.”

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When It’s Not About the Word Count

So I’ve been rocking the words in July…. until last night.

I’m stuck in the same scene second night in a row.  I’ve attacked it from four different angles so far. And I’m still working on it.  I think I’m almost there.  It’s one of those seemingly easy scenes, but under the surface I have SO MUCH going on.  Fears and secret messages galore.    No toys, no bondage, no play…but all heart.  And it’s hard.  Very hard.

It’d be better if I could find the right theme song.  Poor Molly has been sending me ideas left and right but the Muse is fickle sometimes.  Lick by Joi is almost right… but not quite.  Something along those lines, although more like Closer by NIN.  Any recs?

Stress at the Evil Day Job is through the roof, which is complicating my evening writing.  (I’ve lost lunch writing too.  Just too much to do.)  But hopefully I can keep going a little at a time and finish by the end of the month.

56,500 and counting in The Billionaire Submissive (61,400 for the month)

Snippet:

“Mr. Morgan?”  Miss Wruthers squeaked, if possible even higher and more irritating than normal.  The way every one of her sentences seemed to end in a question put his teeth on edge, but he didn’t respond.  His temper was already legendary, and shouting at the poor woman to stop being so hesitant surely wouldn’t help.  “Miss Harrison is here?”

“Thank you.”  He forced himself to speak slowly and calmly.  “Send her in.”

This time, he wouldn’t rise and greet her politely.  I can’t.  Or she’ll see the massive hard on threatening to tear my pants.  She’ll just have to assume I’m being my normal arrogant self.

When Lilly walked into his office, he frantically thanked every deity known to man that he’d remained seated.  Because he would have thoroughly humiliated himself.  As it was, he nearly came in his pants.

She wore a high-collared, low-cut red blouse the same color as her painted toes, a tight black pencil skirt that hugged every inch of her glorious hips, and those shoes.  The ones from the pictures.  So high he didn’t know how a woman could possibly walk in them.  But she did, each step swaying her hips in a hypnotic dance that made his mouth go dry with lust.  When she sat down and crossed her legs, the short black skirt rode up enough to show him the top of her stockings.

He gulped, sweat breaking out on his forehead.  Real thigh-high stockings and a garter belt.  A thin strip of bare thigh tantalized him above the silk.  It made him think about sliding his hand up that skirt, seeking what else she might have on beneath the material.  Or better yet, nothing at all.

“Good morning, Mr. Morgan.”  She leaned down to set her portfolio beside her on the floor, giving him a good, long look down her shirt.  No bra met his gaze, just plump breasts lifted by what looked like a black corset.  “I trust that you slept well last night?”

Dear God.  A corset.  Stockings.  If she pulls a crop out of her bag I’m going to pass out when my dick explodes.

He jammed a finger at the intercom and barked, “coffee” at his secretary.

“Evidently not,” Lilly laughed softly, a deep velvety purr that made him quiver in his chair.  “Too bad.  You’re going to need all your wits about you for this contract negotiation.”

Ah, so that’s what this was.  She’d deliberately worn this outrageously sexy outfit to make sure she got what she wanted out of the negotiation.

With a glare, he retorted, “It’s not going to work.”

Her eyebrows rose and she looked at him innocently.  “What’s not going to work?”

“This.”  He waved a hand at her and averted his gaze, sure that he was blushing like a virgin.  That only made his cheeks burn hotter.  “Some sexy clothes aren’t going to make me lose my head and give you what you want.”

The door opened and Miss Wruthers scurried in with a cup of coffee.  Wide eyed, she froze at the corner of his desk, her gaze flickering between them both.

Lilly lounged in her chair in a sexy drape of negligent ease that made him want to leap up and pace frantically again.  Or better yet, maybe he’d just bury his face in her cleavage.  “You’re going to give me exactly what I want, Mr. Morgan and it’s not going to be because of my clothes.”

 

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This Story’s On Fire

I think I’m going to finish it soon, like maybe even this weekend assuming I don’t have to cook a lot for an impromptu family gathering on Saturday.  Yep, that fast.  I think I started it the first or second day in July and it’s going to be about 50K or so.  I’ve already written the end.  I just have to tie a few things together in the middle and then layer in a few more elements that have become meaningful.

On one hand this has been a very difficult project that has pushed me beyond another boundary.  It probably won’t even be that obvious to any of you reading it but it was significant for me.

I’ve also got a very dirty mouthed heroine.  Again, for me, not easy to write.  But she’s been hilarious.  Lilly’s brash and quite the lusty wench (her own words).  She’s done things to poor Donovan that I canNOT believe I actually wrote.  I mean whew.  Crazy.  I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to look at cherry pie the same way again.  *blushes*

Still going strong at 38K for this story and almost 44K for the month.

Since I haven’t shared anything yet, I thought I’d give you the working blurb and opening scene to this new project, THE BILLIONAIRE SUBMISSIVE.  Yep, a twist on the whole billionaire craze — except the rich ultra alpha CEO is also a submissive in the bedroom.

The Billionaire.

Donovan Morgan rules his billion-dollar international company with an iron fist.  But in the privacy of his bedroom, he needs to be ruled…

The Mistress.

Lilly Harrison helps her clients tame their personal demons by taming them.  Lots of men—whether rich or blue-collar—like to be dominated by a woman.  But the ultra rich and powerful CEO is alpha to the core.  In public, that is.

Can she tame the alpha boss in private?

The Contract.

Donovan selects his potential Mistress as carefully as he investigates his latest investment opportunities with a contract as tight and binding as any corporate takeover.  He must ensure his privacy at all cost— even if he has to resort to a little blackmail to ensure her full cooperation.

However, the indomitable Miss Harrison laughs in his face, tears his contract up, and walks out of his posh office suite without a single glance back.

Which seals the deal for this CEO.

He must have her.  Even if she makes him crawl to her side.

~ * ~

Donovan Morgan stared out at the panoramic view without really seeing the skyline of downtown St. Paul.  His corner office was mostly glass, giving him an unimpeded view of the world he’d supposedly conquered.  He’d just closed another million-dollar deal, yet he felt nothing.  No joy, exhilaration, the rush of competition that he’d thrived on his entire life.  It was like he’d been left outside in the frigid winter to freeze solid, just another ice sculpture in the wintry park.

Never mind that it was full-blown summer in Minnesota and the winding river below was crammed with boaters enjoying the warmer temps.

His personal assistant buzzed him.  “Mr. Morgan?  Your 10:00 AM appointment is here?”

Miss Wruthers never managed to sound very sure of herself, even when she knew damned well he was expecting this meeting.  She’s new.  He smothered a sigh.  Hopefully she’ll gain more confidence.  Assuming I don’t bark at her and terrify her to death.  Without looking, he reached down and pressed the intercom.  “Send him in.”

He heard the door open and shut, but he delayed turning around to greet his guest.  He didn’t want to appear too eager.  Or God forbid, desperate.

“I have the file that you asked for, Mr. Morgan.”

He’d used Andy Wells many times in the past when he needed dirt on the competition in order to gain some leverage.  The man was a pitbull when it came to tenacity and fight, with the nose of a bloodhound and the speed of a greyhound.  If there was any secret to be uncovered, Andy would find it, carefully peeling back layer after layer until the ugly truth was bared, and if he couldn’t find it, no one else would either.  Donovan kept him on his personal staff and paid the man extremely well.  To ensure Andy never had cause to go digging into his own secrets.

Without replying, he turned and accepted the manila file.  It was disturbingly thin and light.  If this was all the dirt Andy’d been able to dig up on this prospective…

What could he call her?

Client?

Date?

Trick?  No.  That would be me.

Sitting down, he laid the file open on his desk and let his gaze linger just a moment on the picture paper clipped to the inside of the file.  Lilly Harrison wasn’t exactly a gorgeous woman but she was quite attractive.  Long coppery brown hair a curly tumble about her shoulders, pretty face, light blue-gray eyes, lush curvy body.  Perhaps a little too short for his personal tastes and certainly not the model-thin slip of a woman so popular in the media, but her curves suited him just fine.

She had an easy, open smile and a light in her eyes that he instinctively mistrusted, even while his instincts told him that spark was the key to hooking her interest.  Light implied warmth and sweetness, even innocence, and if there was anything he’d learned about Lilly Harrison before he’d hired Andy to dig deeper, innocence was the last thing in her mind.  But he could certainly use that spark of curiosity to his advantage.

The next page listed the basic overview of her background.  Age twenty nine, single, self employed as a stained-glass artist in Oakdale after bailing on her white-collar job five years ago.  Doing well enough to purchase her own townhome, though she owed a considerable amount on the mortgage yet.  She had a sick younger brother with a ton of medical bills.  He could use that to his advantage.  Her parents were still alive, living with the brother on the other side of Minneapolis.  Comfortable but not well off, and from the suburb they lived in, conservative and possibly even Catholic.  Even better leverage.

He turned the page and scanned the list of her male “acquaintances.”  Aka the men she hired herself out to. The johns.

Is that what I’ve come to?  Just another john trying to hire a prostitute to get what I need?  Like a junkie on the street?

He forced himself to read every single name, even though he didn’t recognize any of them.  At least she wasn’t involved with high-up politicians.  Andy had even taken a few pictures, although none of them were compromising.  Lilly and her gentleman getting into a car, getting out of a car, going into a restaurant.  They were both dressed to the nines as if they’d been to the opera.  She wore a gorgeous slim-fitting black gown that hugged every wicked sweet curve and strappy bright red platforms that must have added four inches to her height.  The stilettos made him drool.  The red made him insane, tantalizing him like a bull in a ring.

Ridiculous.  Some poor sap actually paid for her services and took her out to eat?  Andy had also included the names of each hotel she’d gone to with her client.  All upper-class hotels, certainly not the scary cheap one-night-stand sort of places he’d expect a woman like her to use.

A woman like her.

He ran a hand over his face, rubbed his eyes, and then gripped his head like he had a headache.  What the hell am I doing?  Am I actually this desperate?

“She’s real careful, Mr. Morgan.  She always uses her name to check into the hotel and it’s always booked and paid for in advance.  By her.  She’s seen these men in public before, and there’s not a single trace of anything suspicious or scandalous.  Two of them are married, all of them are pretty well off.  I mean, they’re nothing like you, boss, but they’re wealthy enough to pay her a grand a night.”

“That’s all she charges them?”

“As far as I can tell.  She doesn’t do random guys, either.  That’s why she takes them out to dinner first, at least twice.  Only then do they get to go to the hotel with her.  They never go to her house and she uses a different hotel for each man.  I don’t have any idea how they hooked up with her.  I couldn’t connect any kind of web presence to her name or credit cards at all.  All of the men are regulars.  I clocked Mr. Smith seeing her once a week.  Mr. Hamilton even hit her twice last week.”  Andy chuckled.  “She must be damned good at what she does.”

Donovan pinned the man with a glare that made Andy gulp like a teenager caught smoking weed in the stairwell.  He didn’t say a word, just kept that steady, critical eye contact until Andy dropped his gaze and rushed to fill the heavy silence.

“No criminal record.  She got a bachelor’s degree from St. Cloud though she doesn’t use it.  Accounting.  She has a savings account but it’s not huge.  Just twenty grand.  Her brother’s bills are five times that.  She’s been making regular payments to her parents to help them out.  She has a small retirement account left over from her corporate job but no other investments.”

Donovan turned his attention back to the file.  She’d never been married.  No children.  A single woman on the verge of suffering the strident call of her biological clock.  Ordinarily that thought would send him running like hell in the opposite direction, but Lilly wasn’t the typical woman.  He wasn’t interested in dating or marrying her.

I’m interested in hiring her.  That’s all.

He smothered a wry laugh and shut the file, though he couldn’t drag his gaze away from it.  That sounded so simple.  So clean.  So basic.  Nothing as dirty as what he really wanted from her.

“That’ll be all, Andy.  Thanks.”

Andy stood, but didn’t rush toward the door.  “Sir?”

Surprised, Donovan raised his gaze to the man’s face.  “Yes?”

“She seems like a real nice lady.  I mean, despite…  She’s nice.”  At the skeptical look that must be on his face, Andy hurried to explain.  “I always like to run into the person I’m investigating in some part of their everyday routine, just to see how they respond.  She’s polite and well mannered.  She spoke to me, she didn’t give me the brush off.  She wasn’t rude.  She has some kind of mutt that she must love a great deal because she takes him for a long walk every single day.  All of her neighbors speak well of her.”

“What’s your point?”

Andy’s cheeks flushed and he stuttered but he didn’t drop his gaze.  “I don’t know what your intentions are and frankly it’s none of my business.  I just wanted you to know that she’s not some skank out looking to make a quick buck or a gold-digging bitch out to screw every lying bastard out of his money.  She’s nice.  I’d like to be her friend and I don’t say that about many people.”

Donovan wanted to ask if he qualified as someone Andy would want to have as a friend, but he already knew the answer.  He was the boss man, the hard ass who made the money and paid the lawyers to screw everyone until they got the best deal.  Even I wouldn’t want to be my friend.

He wheeled his chair around to look out the window.  Cold, so cold and numb and hard.  He was tempted to strip out of his Armani suit and stretch out in the sunlight shining in through his window.  Maybe that would thaw him out.

Nope, he’d tried that already.  All it did was first give him a miserable sunburn in some unspeakable places, and then eventually tan him as dark as island native.  He was still so numb he couldn’t feel a thing.  “I don’t need a friend, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

Andy didn’t say anything else but took the opportunity to escape.

No, what I need…

Donovan used his reflection in the glass to straighten his already perfect tie.  His next business meeting might actually be one of the most important of his life.

The reason Andy hadn’t been able to find anything on Lilly that would connect her initially to the men is that he’d failed to make the connection to the local BDSM community, probably because she’d been out of “circulation” for a few years.  That was actually good.  Donovan didn’t want anyone to be able to connect her to the underworld of sexual deviants like him.

What I need is absolute secrecy.  And Mistress L.

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Long Way Down

Something clicked and as of July 1st I’ve been writing like a mad person.  This week has been especially bad.  I mean good, but it’s bad too.  My wrists are killing me.  I keep having eye strain headaches.  I’m staying up too late.  I don’t want to stop and cook dinner.

I’ve already written 38,900 words this month.  Yes.  I know.

I’ve had some of the biggest days of my writing career ever this week.  Almost 8K one day, then almost 9K yesterday.  Over 5K today.  All on the same story.  It’s one I’ve never posted about here.  I had the idea and then just whammo.  Like Lady Blackmyre, the characters just showed up.  I started taking dictation.  Now it’s just a matter of getting it all down before I forget.

Or before my wrists give out.

Even better, I also have good wordage in another story that I’m working on with my beloved sister, Molly.  I’m actually a little behind this week on it after this huge flood on the new idea.  And yes, I still plan to get back to Mama C and the new idea as soon as I can.

But for now, I’m deep in the well and I’m not looking to drag myself out anytime soon.

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Shameful

I took a peek at my June word count spreadsheet.  I didn’t wanna.  I knew it would be bad.

Just under 8K.

In the entire month.

And that’s after a really huge day last week that nearly doubled my wordage.  How sad is that?

No excuses.  July will be better.  If I have to get up early, I will.  If I have to stay up late, ditto.  I’ve prepared a new July spreadsheet and I’m determined to get some better numbers.  I have too much to do to wait until the kids go back to school, or for the Evil Day Job to lighten up, or for the laundry and dish fairy to magically make all my chores go away.

There’s absolutely no reason I shouldn’t be able to get 30K in a month.  Easily.  So that’s my goal for July.  I don’t care what project it is (I have four in progress).  I just have to make moar wordz.

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Writing ADHD

I’ve got four projects I’m actively working on.  FOUR.  I know.  *hangs head in shame*

I write a little in Charlie.  Then I dabble with Mama C.  I started a secret project.  Then I started yet another new project today.

Here’s the crazy thing:  I’ve almost written more today than the whole month.

Part of it is the relief that the first stress of the Evil Day Job project is over.  My portion has moved to production and nothing blew up.  Yet.  Two nights in a row!  *knocks on wood*  The other piece moved to production today and runs tomorrow.  Then I have one more thing I promised by the end of the month, which is… Friday.  Yikes.  It’s doable though.  Then of course we must quickly switch gears to the next big (huger) project.  It’s neverending, which is a good thing called job security.

But it wreaks havoc on my writing brain sometimes.  It’s hard to concentrate.

It’s also hard on the diet because I stress eat.  Sigh.

But I’m slowly working back into a routine.  I’m keeping a spreadsheet that will hopefully help me get back to daily writing.  I still don’t care which project I work on, as long as I’m working.  Hopefully I can build some momentum again.  If today’s any indication with 2800+ words, I’m  baaaaaaaack!

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I Never Even Called Him By His (Real) Name

I have a character named Charlie (so I thought).  You’ve seen him before.  He seems like a very nice man, yes?  I mean, he takes super good care of his dog and for 35k+ he’s unfailingly understanding and gives Ranay exactly what she needs.

He can’t be a bad man.  Right?  So she believes and yes, I hope you believe the same thing for at least the first 1/4-1/3 of the story.

But there are hints that all is not what it should be.

I know secrets about him.  So many convoluted secrets that I’ve confused myself.  Or maybe he’s confusing me on purpose.

He’s very affable.  He enjoyed telling me about his troubled past today.  Too much, perhaps.  It makes me think that it’s all a show, just one of the many faces he wears when it suits him.  His name really isn’t Charlie (and he won’t tell me what his real name is, either).  He isn’t who the heroine believes him to be.  He isn’t even who I believe him to be, and I created the SOB.

I keep thinking that I should know all these things before I get much further.  Hello, I already have 35k+ on this story.  Ranay’s trust in him is getting ready to go to hell in a hand basket.  I put this story aside for awhile because I didn’t know all the whys and wherefores.  I know “about” what happens, but it’s very much one of those things that’s going to evolve and change and scare the crap out of me before I’m done.

He wears so many masks that even he doesn’t know what his face looks like any longer.  A lie?  An illusion?  An alias?  I. Have. NO. IDEA.

How can I hope to write this story and do it justice, when I’ve never even called him by the right name yet?

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The Summer Blahs

Every year I hope this summer will be different.  I start out good.  And then the summer blahs hit.

Maybe it’s the soaring temps (although not this year – it’s been rather cool and rainy).  Maybe it’s the kids being out of school.  They stay up super late, so I don’t sleep as well.  I’m tempted to stay up with them (I’m naturally a night owl, but a thing called the Evil Day Job prevents me from staying up too often).  It’s certainly harder to get up in the dark if I’ve only been in bed a few hours.

Maybe it’s work.  The EDJ has been particularly busy this year, especially the last two months, and there’s really no end in sight.

Whatever the cause, I feel the days slipping by and it drives me nuts.  I just can’t get moving.  It’s harder to stick to the diet when it’s hotdog and chips season.  It gets too hot to do much outside.  The kids get bored and whiny, even when I’ve organized activities for them to keep them out of the house as much as possible so I can work.  Can you believe they start complaining that the pool is *boring*?

I’ve wasted entire summers in the past, but I keep trying NOT to lose these months.  I have to keep moving.  So it’s back to tiny goals on ANY book that will hold my interest.  Last night, I reread Charlie’s story (the mysterious “Christmas” novella that wasn’t about Christmas and wanted to be more than a novella!).  I’ve reread what I have in Mama C too.  Of course I also have the new PNR I’m building.  Too many cool ideas — just not enough brain cells right now.

I’m pulling out the timer.  15 minutes on any project.  Then maybe I’ll have some ice cream!

P.S. Stay tuned for another Her Grace’s Stable giveaway – a cool custom handmade cosmetic bag from Haut Totes!

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On Plotting

As I’ve been working on the new PNR idea, I’ve been thinking about my plotting processes and how they’ve evolved over the years.  There are so many different ways to think about story structure, from the Witch’s original “Block” idea, to the Marshall Plan, the Hero’s Journey, Save the Cat

All of them speak to me at various stages or for different things.  Save the Cat has really taught me to come full circle, to think about how I’m going to start and how I’m going to end, and what that means from the very beginning.

Breaking out all of those worksheets for the Marshall Plan is not for me.  It’s just too tedious.  I still learned a lot though, mostly to keep that push through each and every scene for what changed.  Why include it here?

The Hero’s Journey still speaks the most to me, but sometimes I need something a little simpler.  One thing I’ve read more about this year is the try/fail sequence.  Sometimes that helps me come up with what I want to happen in the middle.  (How can I make this worse?)  There’s also the 7-point plot.

And if your head is whirling now…  You’re not the only one.

What I’ve decided is that just like I prefer a different tarot deck for each major story world, I sometimes need a different way to think about plot for each story too.  Sometimes I use a little Save the Cat combined with try/fail until I get to the end.  Sometimes I’m hero’s journey all the way.  Sometimes I have a character show up in my head and just take over the whole damned show and all I can do is hang on for the ride.  Other times, it’s the world that comes to me first, and I have to figure out how to populate that world with cool and interesting characters who have something to say.

In the end, use ALL or NOTHING or PART of any of the methods to help you.  The more you know, the better.

Just for kicks and giggles, I’m building a simple one-page spreadsheet that highlights all of these plot methods so I can see the major points at a glance.  If you’re curious, take a peek (pdf).

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Writing with Tarot

I’ve posted before that I often turn to tarot for brainstorming (my friend Raelyn Barclay has lots of good posts here).  What I’m finding (for me) is that I end up buying a new deck for each new idea.  *sheepish*

For Lord Regret’s Price, I used the Steampunk Tarot exclusively.  The gorgeous, rich artwork and the Victorian/steampunk elements really spoke to me. I hope I can continue to use those cards for other books in the series.

But when I sat down to work on the new paranormal idea, I didn’t want to use that same deck.  It just didn’t work.  It didn’t say masks or shifters or demons or anything spooky.  I was wandering around on Amazon for something and saw the Deviant Moon deck and it was like cymbals started crashing in my skull.  Yes, yes, yes!

Looking at the cards is even more exciting.  I’ve been working with them all week with mixed results (so I thought).  First, I used their recommended “deviant moon” spread for my villain and got some incredible ideas.  Then I tried the same spread for the hero, and I just didn’t seem to feel it.  I mean, the cards just didn’t seem connected.  I couldn’t visualize anything, it didn’t spark a plot point, or anything.

When that happens, don’t despair!  Here’s a few things I tried:

  1. I took notes anyway and saved them for later.  Upon reflection and some shifting in my mind, the cards filled a gap for something else that I needed.
  2. Try a different spread.  When all else fails, I go back to the simple 3-card past, present, and future.  I got lots of good stuff for the hero then.
  3. If nothing seems to gel, maybe just flip through the deck and examine cards for fun.  See which ones seem to speak and take notes.

All of these options paid out cool ideas this week.  The cards I drew the first day that didn’t seem to work for the hero were actually calling up a missing character I needed.  (They were all strong women, like the Empress, the Queen of Wands, but I knew it wasn’t the heroine.)  I got another card that gave me a plot point that had nothing to do with the hero — but did involve the book.

And when I just picked some cards that really seemed important, I ended up building characters around those cards.  I just KNEW they needed to be used because they were so cool.  This time around, I’m actually building most of my cast straight from the cards themselves.  Not all of the characters are a single card.  e.g. the hero begins as a mix of the hermit/magician, but ends as the Ace of Pentacles.  Without going into too many details about what I’m doing, here are a few pictures of how I’m pairing stuff up.

hero heroine

These cards represent my hero and heroine’s growth throughout the book.  For the heroine (right), she has to make a choice.  The bottom card is what will happen if she falls to the Dark Side.  She’s quite dark, so while I know she’s not going to make that choice…I want to remind myself of that risk as I write.

antagonists

For my villains (yes there’s more than one), I knew the card on the right was significant.  It was a meeting between my two major antagonists.  But I wasn’t sure where else she might show up.  I flipped through the cards looking for a woman colored the same way to get other clues.  I did the same thing for my heroine — looking for other cards that had wings.

So I guess my point here is that it doesn’t have to be based on random chance.  You can sit down and look through the cards for specific characteristics to get ideas too.

Man, I’m loving this creepy weird deck!  I’m getting so many wicked ideas!!!