romance

On Writing THE END

/ PaigeRandall / 11 Comments

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It’s over? Is it really and truly over? I started a few months ago, staring at a blank screen with a flashing little line. It pulsates, that little line. Write. Now. Write. Now. Write. Now.

And suddenly there is a place.
And the place is filled with people.
And the people are filled with stories.
And their world becomes my world and I like their world.
I like it a lot.

I like their secrets and their honesty. I like their selfishness and their caring. I like their fear and their courage. I like their pain. Oh I like their pain so very much.  And I love their passion. I also like their hair. They have really great hair.

And then it is done.

For my whole life, I thought of typing the words THE END as a leap across a finish line, with a ribbon across my chest and my arms raised in a V for victory.

But I’m not ready to say goodbye to these characters just yet. There are more stories to tell.

-THE BEGINNING-

Delicious Duplicity

/ PaigeRandall / Leave a comment

 

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I lead two lives.  I am Batman. Okay that is a stretch.  I am probably closer to Jeckyll and Hyde.  Reliable professional by day.  Passionate, writer of love by night.

By day, I sit up straight at my desk, say the word fuck under my breath only in a hushed whisper, and can always be counted on to meet the tightest deadline. I say please and thank you and neaten items on my desk, more than a little compulsively. I prefer my stapler parallel to my tape dispenser, at a slight angle to the tissue box, which is parallel to my in-box and so on.  I keep cough drops and mint gum and fruit flavored antacids in my desk to share with anyone in need. My beverage rests on a hand made coaster to prevent condensation damage to the surface of my desk.

But by night… well that is a different matter entirely and I’m not sharing.

Yesterday, while I was sitting in Starbucks revising the latest draft of Circling, an old acquaintance came over to say hello with his children. My how you girls have grown I said with a smile, sliding my hand to protect the scene I was editing from young eyes. If he knew my hand rested on a steamy oral interlude, he would have had a good laugh.

I’m not ready to share yet though. I’m enjoying the duplicity too much.

 

The Sexy Between The Sentences

/ PaigeRandall / Leave a comment

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My characters have a lot of sex. Shouldn’t they though? But writing a sex scene isn’t as easy as you might think.  Doing is one thing. Telling is another thing entirely. How much detail is sensual, without crossing over into erotica.  Erotica is lovely, if that is the intended genre.  I think for me, for writing anyway, it is not. All too easily a character can be shamed into putting on nipple clamps and a butt plug to sell her poor author’s book. My female lead, Anna, and I have a deal, no S & M if she can be sexy without forcing me to write an instruction manual for virgins. Doing It For Dummies? You all do know what is below the naval and above the knees on a woman. I know you do. And as much as I love all of the words (I really do), are there any sexy words to describe the male anatomy? Directly? That is a real challenge.

Writing a sex scene is an exercise in pure meditation. You have to block out each and every family member, everyone you know now, knew way back when, or might meet in the future. You have to push out the Starbucks barista blending your coffee, the neighbor passing with a dog on a leash, the guy on the next bike at the gym. Oh God if the receptionist at work knew! Everyone get out of my head. And stay out!

It only works if you are head over heels in love with your characters. I am. The sexy is between the sentences for me. Bring your own memories into the experience and share it with us.

Let me beat around the bush a little.