I hold conversations in my head all the time. I’m pretty sure I actually mouth the words when I’m by myself in the car. I try hard not to, but I’ve had a few weird glances from people out in public before.
(I hope I don’t look this angry!)
I can’t help it. I’m in the middle of writing a book and I think about all the various scenes at all hours of the day. And, since I think about it all day, the words eventually spill out. Especially while I’m driving. It’s almost like singing along to the radio. Except I’ve got something from Brand X blaring through my speakers, and instead of singing I’m talking like I’m Leven. Or Calloway. Or any number of characters. Or I’m narrating what is going on between the characters. (Pss. You can find out about all Leven and her friends by reading Broken Crown, available on Amazon!)
This sounds crazy, and it is, but it helps. It helps hash out a few of my harder scenes. The ones where I don’t want the dialog to sound cliché. And it helps for when I get home and back to my laptop. Or when I get to my destination and I can pull my notebook out of my mess of a purse and write everything down. You have a notebook, right? One where you write down everything about your story, the characters, random passages you want to put in? If I’m the only one, I’ll share mine and you can see what I’m talking about.
Anyway, I bring this up because I was doing it in the car the other day. I had to run to town to get food, because remodeling a house and cooking don’t always go hand in hand, and I found myself thinking about the latest chapter. It’s a sweet, tender moment between Leven and another character, who I’ll leave out just in case you read the first book and want to see where stuff goes in the second. Anyway, I had the music going, the emotions right, and I just started mouthing the words of what I wanted to say. It wasn’t a long period. Only a paragraph or two, but I caught myself and realized how crazy I probably look. But you know what, when I got home, I had some great material to put down. And in the end, isn’t that what I want? A great story? And if it requires me to make a fool of myself in traffic, then so be it. It has to be better than my “Concerts at the Red Light.” If you don’t know what that is, it’s me with the windows rolled down, belting out whatever song strikes my fancy. Sometimes Adele, sometimes Guns and Roses. But always me and my own little concert.
(not me, but I’m sure this is what I look like)
So if you see me in my car, mouthing something to myself, just know that you are either witnessing a play or a song. And both are pretty awesome if you ask me.
Until next time