However I can't sit there and just let the feelings of woe overwhelm me. So I have distraction techniques. If I can't write one story I'll write another, this is why short stories are so great. A quick 2000 word story can be knocked out in a matter of hours, it might take a bit longer to finish it off properly but the bones will be there. The other alternative is to take a character you've already created and write a little scene or story just for them.
In this case I've taken a character from my current WIP (which I am re-editing an even more soul destroying place than 40,000 words) and written a scene that happens after the end of the book. I needed to reconnect a bit with the character make them real and exciting again, because right now they all feel like problems that need solutions.
Anyhow here's what I'm working on to get the creative juices flowing again:
Lunar Phase
The minute the
charm above the door had started screaming, not out loud obviously but silently in a magical
sort of way, Trish had ducked into the back office leaving behind a rustle of
glass beads. Now she peered out from
behind the beaded curtain at the large were person browsing the romance
section. He probably knew she was there,
his nose would have told him that already.
Hiding in the back just gave her an illusion of safety and a chance to
steady her nerves.
The charm was
there to alert her to the big bads of the supernatural world, or at least the
big bads that were a threat to her, which was all of them. Werebeastman out there was definitely a big
bad, anything that could change into a crazed beast once a month or more was
bad news.
Trish took
another deep calming breath before she walked out from the back office. The
glass beads tinkled and rattled behind her and she took stock of the man
pretending to be engrossed in the cover blurb of a book with a gaudy pink
cover, he’d obviously moved on to chick lit.
He was tall, 6 foot plus, dark hair and hungry looking, but then that
was a feature of any were beast. They
all looked like you might be their next meal.
In fact as he had looked up at her with fathomless dark eyes she had an
uncomfortable sensation that she was being evaluated.
Go on girl, brazen it out. A
bit of silent encouragement never hurt.
“You don’t look like much of a romance reader.” Trish cringed at the somewhat breathless tone
she’d developed.
“No?” Dark brows
pulled together in a frown, giving him an increasingly dangerous look. He looked down at the book in his hands and
replaced it on the shelf.
Oh boy he had to
be the strong monosyllabic type.
“Anything I can help you with?” Trish felt momentarily proud of the
flatness she managed to inject into her voice.
It sounded unafraid and mature.
“I’ve heard a lot
about you.” The man’s voice was deep and
raspy. It did not sound reassuring, it
sounded like he’d prefer to be growling.
Trish heaved an
internal sigh, she knew what was coming and this could be short or it could be
long. She wasn’t in the mood or prepared
for him hanging about in the shop all day.
“My sister has a fairy kingdom and is involved with a fairy prince, if
that’s what you’re talking about.”
Apparently everyone and their dog had heard about that.
“Yet you’re still
here.” He took a step closer to the
counter, and paused giving her another appraising look.
“Yes. Where else would I be?” Trish involuntarily tensed as the man took a
step towards her.
Craig stared at
the little witch standing behind the counter and gripping it like her life
depended on it. She was small and sleek
like a cat. Dark hair neatly bobbed
brushed against her chin and her mouth was a strawberry red pout. Pretty blue eyes held wariness and now
confusion.
“How’d you get
out of fairy?” he asked. It puzzled him, she didn’t look particularly
strong and she didn’t carry herself like she packed much magical punch. However, at that question a small smile
crooked the corners of her mouth, and she seemed to relax a little.
“I walked. One foot in front of the other and my sister
has some influence there.” Trish felt a
whoosh of relief, so it could just be curiosity, there’d been a lot of nosey
parkers snooping around trying to figure out if somehow she’d stumbled across
some powerful mojo. “The question is,
what are you doing in my shop? Satisfied
your curiosity yet?” Trish raked her
eyes over him, beat up leather jacket, scuffed boots and jeans – nothing
controversial there.
Craig saw the look
she gave him and stepped closer again, this time she didn’t tense up. He risked another step. “I’m not here because I’m curious.”
Trish raised one
eyebrow, she was done asking questions.
“I’ve got a
problem.” He took another step towards
the counter. Two more steps and he’d be
right in front of her.
“Oookaay. And you are here because you want a tarot
reading?” Trish gestured towards the back of the shop.
He frowned
again. “No, I need your help.”
“I’m pretty good
with the cards you know. There’s all
sorts of things, interesting things, you might find out.” Trish had an uncomfortable feeling in the pit
of her stomach that whatever his problem was she didn’t want to know anything
about it.
“That’s not the
sort of help I need.” He took two more
steps and stopped at the counter.
“Ohkaay. I can’t help you then. We don’t do potions or spells for sale here.” Trish hoped that by dropping a ‘we’ in there
he’d assume there was someone out of sight and smell.
Trish’s breath
hitched when the man growled and his eyes flashed from dark brown to a lupine
gold. This was very bad.
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