**Please welcome author Gracen Miller**
Do we writers spend too much time in our heads? I ask because when I become a writing fiend I’m creating scenes and dialogue in my head almost non-stop. My kids are talking and I’m fantasizing about my characters. My husband is rambling about work, while I’m masterminding detailed love scenes in my mind…or demonic rebellions. On the television is my favorite football team and I’m crafting a new monster to wreak havoc on my heroine/hero.
This daydreaming has gotten me into a spot of hot water, too. My eldest son reminded me that I had promised to let him purchase a Guinea Pig with his Birthday money—he has so much money I’ve asked for a loan. *cheeky grin*. Let me just say…I do not remember having the conversation, much less agreeing to this purchase!
I’ve been forgetting a lot of things lately. But this is a big one. My youngest son is backing him, arguing vehemently that I agreed, which is odd because they never agree on anything—ever. It’s like a secret brother-law or something that Moms don’t get.
I tried to wiggle my way out of it with a, “No way I’d agree to that,” while in my head I’m thinking, “No way am I taking care of another animal!!” We always have family meetings before we add a new member to the family. With two dogs—a Dachshund and a Great Dane—and my boys’ busy schedule running from guitar lessons and the sport for the season, we’re busy and a new family member is time consuming.
But they’re not giving up. And to back up his defense he commences to remind me where we were, what we were doing, and the exact conversation when I agreed to the SNAFU. And somewhere along the way of the retelling I have an “A-ha!” moment because that was when the hero in my head said to the heroine, “Either show me your claws, kitten, or purr for me.”
Big freaking gulp!
Yep, you guessed it, hot-freaking-water! Now, how do I get myself out of it? I can’t confess to a 14 and 10 year old that I was thinking about risqué dialogue that ended up in sexual positions during our conversation. And while I’m stuttering to come up with a lame argument, they’re reminding me that I agreed with one stipulation…they take care of the Guinea Pig and if I had to do anything just once, it’d find a new home.
Whew! That clause, in the deal from Hell, made me feel a wee bit better. You guessed it, we ended up with a Guinea Pig that the boys named Dixie. And wouldn’t you know it, a month later Dixie had babies!!
Holy smokes! I keep getting screwed in this deal. But I’ve learned my lesson. I hope.
A word of warning…writers, get out of your head when chatting with sneaky children!
I hope everyone has a fabulous Thanksgiving!
Where you can stalk me—not really!—but I would love to meet and interact with you:
Road to Hell series FB Fan Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Road-to-Hell-series/112564408814796?ref=ts
My Publisher: www.decadentpublishing.com