I usually take my laptop downstairs to the basement, and, after the dogs settle down (Kady the sheepdog generally has to show me that she’s got her Kong clenched in her teeth and her butt is wiggling to beat the band). I fire up the computer and turn on some music, which can be anything from Bob Dylan or Emmylou Harris to a Broadway show, and then stare at the screen. Finally I start to type, and the characters start to come to life…
And the dogs want to go outside. Kady and Clancy go to the door, but Christine comes over to me, whining and looking up at me like she’s about to burst.
So out they go, like a shot, barking like mad. Luckily there are no neighbors close enough to care about the ruckus! I return to the table where I’m writing and look at what I’ve written. Seven words. Sigh. I begin to type again.
And there are three adorable faces suddenly at the door, wanting back in. I get back up and in the dogs come. Clancy and Christine want a treat for being so good. Kady couldn’t care less. Dogs satisfied, I go back to writing.
Finally, I get into a good stretch. The words are flowing, and….one of the characters decides he wants to change something in the plot.
“Really?” I ask him. “Now? You bring this up now?”
“Yeah, sorry,” says the character. “But it makes more sense my way. Sorry about that outline you slaved over, but I just think this works better.”
I can see he’s right, so with a sigh I completely alter my plot.
And I hear a whine at my side. Christine has her ears back, and is giving me her “I want out” look. Clancy and Kady are already at the door.
And so it goes….