Racing, Breathless, Through Inspiration: The Writing Process

I'm regularly asked how I get from the initial inspirational spark, through the arduous process, to a real-life book in my hand. The answer may not be what people expect. I don't slog through writer's block... No... Sure don't. Instead, I'm chased maniacally by demons as I race, breathless, through inspiration.

So, here's the deal. I get a spark. I let it simmer, often with a clenched heart and a touch of dread. You see, I know what's coming. I'm about to lose myself to a process I don't control. The spark becomes a flame, but that's not the scary part. I wait. That's when the flame becomes a wildfire. It all comes rushing in. Fingers on my computer keys, I'm off like a shot. That's how each book starts.

When it gets interesting is the long haul. Time morphs. Suddenly eight hours feels like thirty-eight minutes. All sense of reality slides away, leaving me disconnected from my waking life. My son has basketball practice? What's that? I have to go to work? Where? When? The stereotype of writers surrounded by burrito wrappers, full ashtrays, and piles of unhandled reality is very real. When I do rise from my internal process, I'm split in two. Half of me is in reality, and the other half is still in my story. I have a very difficult time reconnecting. My family and friends have come to know the lost look in my eyes. They've started dragging me into breaks that I can't argue around. Thank goodness for them.

So, what does it feel like when the freight train of inspiration takes me on a mad dash? My heart races for weeks at a time. I don't sleep. I rarely eat. Days blend. Time melts. I dissolve. I face the task, often horrified, as I watch my deepest secrets weave into the story. I can't stop it, because it's right for the project. It often leaves me feeling sick, traumatized, and mortified. My darkest thoughts are on display in this series. My reality is far more revealed than I would like, but I will never disclose how much is real and how much is fantasy. I've done the unthinkable, the terrifying... I've dumped out my soul, left bare, for readers to explore, judge, and ponder... But... for some, it's an opportunity to discover a window into their own souls. It's for them that I've battled demons I didn't know I had and put my very private self on public display.

Welcome to the world of "The Hollywood High Chronicles." The characters are real, existing somewhere in the ether. I've decided that we need a heroine who has layers, is far from perfect, refuses to give up, and kicks ass with her teeth gritted and tears in her eyes. When it comes down to it, that's life as I know it.