**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!
Holy crap!
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!
Huggles,
Gracen Miller
Where
you can stalk me—not really!—but I
would love to meet and interact with you:
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/gracen.miller
Road
to Hell series FB Fan Page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Road-to-Hell-series/112564408814796?ref=ts
Website:
www.gracen-miller.com
My
Publisher: www.decadentpublishing.com
