The first time I met my husband’s father was, shall we say, memorable. My father-in-law was an engineer. Cerebral. Quiet. Logical.
I went to their house to meet the family and we played one of their favorite games. My husband told me beforehand that while his mom would welcome me with an effusive hug and probably ask me to call her mom, his dad would likely just nod, say “nice to meet you” and that would be it.
I adored the new adaptation of Little Women. Though it wasn’t flawless (the jumping from current time to the past became jarring and tough to follow near the end), I think it did a brilliant job of portraying the humanity of the story.
The characters came across not just as characters, but as people.
One of the questions asked was about how we as authors keep our stories new and fresh. That was an easy questions for me to answer because my plots are driven by my characters, and I do my best to make my characters human. There are billions of people on this earth and we all live unique lives because each day is filled with thousands of decisions to be made, both big and small. Each of those decisions will change our course, whether drastically or incrementally.
What’s your hero preference? Do you like to read about silent, mysterious, and brooding men? Do you like a hero with confidence and swagger? Or friendliness and charm? Do you like the nerd? The goofball?
Personally, I tend to go for charm, but I’m also a sucker for a little bit of brooding. A good brood can make for some great tension, so long as it doesn’t cross the line into disrespectful and rude.
How are you, friends? Are you still surviving the craziness of homeschooling (or remote learning, or distance learning or WHATEVER they’re calling it in your town)? Have you found the goodness among the chaos?
I certainly hope all is well in your neck of the woods and that you are being kind to yourself.
As for me, I need to get my bootie into gear and start recording the audio/video version of Missing Lily. That’s on my to-do list for this week.
Okay, so there is no bunker. It’s my house. It just sometimes feels like a bunker during these strange times. I’m sure all of you can relate.
I hope everyone out there is doing well dealing with these odd circumstances we find ourselves in. I’ve never been on such friendly terms with sand sanitizing wipes. I happen to have a container of them in my console and I’m pretty sure my steering wheel is like, “What the crap, Annette? Suddenly you think I’m so disgusting that I must be wiped down every time you go somewhere?”
Keeping to only one work in progress at a time is good advice.
Of course it’s not advice that can always be followed, or even should be followed. There are always exceptions. If I completely stall out on one story, it’s better for me to make progress on something different than for me to just do nothing.