Actually, it’s not the construction workers that enthrall me (OK, it kinda is).
But my real lust is for the heavy equipment.
I love bulldozers and backhoes, trenchers and cement mixers. My life’s ambition through most of my formative years was to drive a garbage truck.
My fascination with the compactor at the landfill led me to write an entire book about a heroine who loses her office job and ends up working at the dump.
(Let’s all pause for a moment and cross our fingers – or any other available body parts – that my wonderful agent has the same good luck selling GETTING DUMPED as she did selling my romantic comedies!)
In last week’s blog chain on writing process, I touched briefly on the fact that story ideas don’t seem to come as easily for me as they do for some authors. While many of my peers seem to have a constant stream of plots and concepts flooding their brain, I operate more like an attention-deficit eight-year-old.
“Big, spiky wheels!” squeals my inner third grader at the sight of a landfill compactor. “Maybe if I write about it, they’ll let me drive one!”
(Sadly, they did not, though I did get to spend a lot of time crawling around inside them).
And though my inner third grader is not legal drinking age, it was my fascination with wine – plus my urge to drink some and get paid for it – that prompted me to propose LET IT BREATHE as the third book in my recent three-book contract with Sourcebooks.
Oh, and for the record, the love interest in that book is a construction foreman. See? I told you the ogling was research.
I’m always curious about where authors get their story ideas. Do yours come easy for you, or is it like pulling teeth? (Hey, there’s a story idea…)
Please share your experiences in the comments trail.
And while we’re sharing, allow me to share the highlight of my week.
My life is complete.