I worshiped in my two favorite places today - the library and Starbucks. (Cue choir music - Ahhhh-ahh-ah-ahhhhhhh.) My form of worship - writing, and I love it. I'm infatuated with this new work.
I know. I know. This was only supposed to be a quickie, a fling, but I fell in love. The short little rough draft of Vampires of an Aztec God was done. All I had to do was edit and submit. But I have to develop Bissette's story further. Oh and I want Charles to get his sexy resolution, too. And I need to play with Aztec (Chichimec) legends some more. They just fit too perfectly and the research is amazing. So in my places of worship, I mapped out twenty-two additional chapters this week. I'd started with five completed chapters but after such a tiny taste, I want the whole cake.
Plus, I received too much encouragement this past week. Emails asking about Bissette and Charles jazzed me up to expand on Bissette's tale and all the secrets I kept in Healing Wounds. (I love these emails and the wonderful people who send them.)
I've even started watching novelas (Spanish soap-operas) to pick up forgotten twists of phrase. I'm half-Mexican but beyond ordering tacos and asking where the bathroom is, I know practically no Spanish. It reminds me of my grandmother, though and of listening to my aunts gossip. The melodic cadence makes me feel all warm inside and I imagine the smell of caldo (soup) and tortillas.
I've been neglecting my other work-in-progress, that sci-fi vampire novel that bridges my two series, but it's incubating in my brain for later, along with three fantasies half-written. (I get overly excited and take on too much, but I promise I'll finish them, too.)
Summer's starting soon. That means a full-time writing playground for me. The hubby's off and gets to be stay-at-home dad while I work. Nice. Such a sweet hubby.
I truly appreciate him. Someone asked me if he's the inspiration for my stories. Thankfully, no. He's too together and supportive to be a fictional hero. Characters have flaws that keep them apart until they finally figure everything out. Ben had it mostly figured out from the beginning.
I am far from perfect. No, really. I have this fiery latin temper mixed with Irish rage that ignites when I reach my breaking point. Things I shouldn't say, explode from my mouth. I actually made an ex-boyfriend curl up in a ball, sobbing, literally on the floor in fetal position. That just made me see red, though now I feel kinda guilty about yelling at him. My rage rarely ignites with my hubby, but on the rare occasion it does, he knows how to put it out. He knows exactly what to say, how to listen, and how to compromise with me. He's my splash of cool water. I think what keeps me at peace is that I know he cares about me and any problem that arises is most likely due to a misunderstanding that can be talked through. A person like him with such calming devotion and commitment, is rare.
He picks up the slack at home while I'm writing. He's incredibly supportive of my career and has made countless sacrifices. That's why all my novels are dedicated to him.