As I sit around waiting to write the next book, I go through a flood of thoughts, and most of them aren't as organized as I would like them to be concerning the new book. It is titled "Silent Bay" and takes place around the Boston area. It's more inland than Wharf, but it does have moments where the bay is seen, used, loved, appreciated, and admired. It's just that the storyline isn't gelling and it's not coming together like I thought it would, or like I hoped it would. It's sort of out there, and it's not interesting to me now.
My thoughts about the killer, Zoe Harper, aren't that dedicated. I see her, I think I know her, but I don't think I want to push onto her character what I had planned to push. Instead of being a real misfit and silent serial killer, she seems more distant, almost pathetic and sad, like she truly wants to be helped, whereas the character I had in my head at first was nearly demon possessed; she didn't want to even think about resolution.
The thing is, if the book doesn't write itself in my head while I'm planning it, I don't write it. I have the old Celtic Highland Romance book I've been thinking about writing, in the thick of my thoughts now, it could come through, but then I'd have to dig some of the old Highland romance novels out of my Kindle to get a little inspiration -- oh no; don't throw me into that particular briar patch. No... no... OK, I'll go.
While Deanna Gainer, the M.E., was kidnapped by Harper and held against her will by threat of life and worse, now I'm opening the door of the shed they were in (in my head) and I'm letting her go home to her family. I'm even erasing the hurt and sting that Harper caused, as if she never really existed. It's really rather interesting the way my brain just decided it wouldn't happen; the book that never was. I mean, it could be,. But I don't think I want to. I think I like the idea of a 13th-century handsome man forging his way through the highlands and across the treacherous waters of the North Sea to find who he really is.
Yes, it's happening. He's walking through my skull now. You can't see him, but he's there-he's getting dressed; you'll need to give him a minute. Excuse me, I have somewhere to be at the moment. I'll be back. (smiles)
OK, yeah, so there we are - you guessed it, Scotland. But, it's not just Scotland, there will be a boatload of action on the Emerald Isles as well; after all, the boy was born in Scotland and raised on the other side of the waves. He was kidnapped also, but at birth and not so that he would be killed, but so that he could be saved. It's a good story, but more importantly, it's a story I won't mind writing, and I won't mind reading, and I won't mind sharing. I just think the "Silent Bay" premise was a bit too "Criminal Minds" and I don't feel it -- I'm a lot more "Rockford Files" if you have to know the truth - Maybe Jim Rockford meets Dick Tracy and Perry Mason in a bar -- that's who I am.
So, it's decided. The murderfest is out of the brain; therefore, it is out the door and not to be. In it's place, and starting Sunday (2 days from now) I will write "Legacy". I think I'll be happier with the characters, the story, the plots, the twists, and most certainly with the kilts...I mean, the outcome of it, the words. Sure, that's what I meant.
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