An interesting thing happened the other day. (No, this has nothing to do with the six hours my son recently spent in the ER but if you’d like to hear the whole crazy hopefully never to be repeated saga, let me know).
I’m nearing the end of my latest hot romance and was barreling ahead getting closer and closer to the climactic scene, when suddenly, I couldn’t get a single word to stick on the monitor. I spent an entire day finding other things to do and was giving myself mental kicks. I tried on an excuse I’ve used a lot of lately, specifically, that an offspring’s health was of primary importance. But he’d recently gotten some good medical news, and I’d felt a surge of creative energy. I wanted to write. I NEEDED to. Riding high on that energy, I wrote for about a week only to hit a wall. Why couldn’t I find a single workable word to come off my fingers? Browbeating myself, I spent the evening staring at the TV.
The next morning while in the shower, something started knocking on my brain. This has happened enough times that I know to pay close attention. I swear my muse lives in the shower. As I ran up the water bill, it came to me. A simple thing really. No need to start the danged book over. Without realizing what I’d done, I’d taken a minor character in a direction that didn’t fit. My narrative about his background was all wrong, nothing my h/h could springboard off. Yes, it was a fascinating story, and one I’d like to explore, but it had nothing to do with helping my h/h get to know themselves and each other.
Fixing said minor character was a simple matter. I needed to jettison his hang-ups and give him new ones that would dovetail with the main storyline.
I deleted a couple of hundred words and replaced them with superior ones my h/h are more than happy to hang their hats on. They can relate to said minor character because they now see themselves in him.
Well duh, Vonna, you’ve been at this writing game to know all the pieces of a story need to fit together. No going off on unrelated tangents regardless of how pretty they appear.
Tomorrow for sure I’ll write THE END.
Then after edits I’ll start the journey again. That’s how this writing gig works.
P.S. I’ve been pimping a couple of spanking stories I self-published, but it’s time for a change. Carnal Days is as dark as I’ve ever gone. I gave it a BDSM label, but that really isn’t what this story about a sex slave training facility is. There’s no HEA. Instead, it documents a new reality for a woman caught in a world not of her making.
A Dark Thriller: Carnal Days
A commanding man hires Carnal Incorporated to provide him with a pleasure-trained submissive woman who will see him as her master.
Two experienced Carnal operatives capture quiet, beautiful Shari Isle. It’s more than a job for the pair of trainers. There’s nothing they’d rather do. The reclusive artist is forced into a world of restraint, lessons, revelations, and unrelenting sexual stimulation.
Shari has no choice except to submit, but it’s far from a nightmare. Day by day she slips deeper into the dark lifestyle she’s been forced into. Far from being horrified by her new reality, she opens herself to the reality of being owned and used. She obeys, not simply because she has no choice, but because the dark side of BDSM is so seductive.
Her time at the training facility ends, and she’s delivered to a dominant man haunted by demons he has no intention of ever sharing. Escape and freedom for Shari? Impossible. Life with a powerful man who sees her body as his playground? Yes.
Carnal Days taps into many women’s fantasies about giving up control. That’s the keyword, fantasy. In no way does Vonna condone such behavior in the real world. She writes escapism for a mature audience.