It’s Monday again – one month later.  Time to shake up the muse.

Using these five words:

dance

plate

surf

garage

dog

Tell us a story.

More than a decade ago, an entire generation was introduced to the magical, wondrous world of Harry Potter. 

It was a world full of friendships, hard lessons and evil.

Harry’s innocence, though it fought valiantly to hang on, was lost very early. The tragic attack on his world, his family and others, left him scarred – physically and emotionally.

A decade ago, another scar, a real scar in the real world, was left on American soil and in the hearts of many around the world. 9/11 changed the perception of adults. It changed our sense of security. The collective sense of insecurity became pervasive, and could not be hidden from our children.

Years ago – a generation ago – adults worked to absorb and hide concern and fear so children wouldn’t have to know about danger in the world. Children could be children – innocent, naïve, oblivious. Happy and free from worry, free from the burdens of adulthood, of evil.

But, 9/11 brought that evil into focus. There was no hiding it. Our children felt every breath of it. And while they could not ignore it, many of them were too young to process it, to understand it.

With Harry Potter books and movies running along the same time as al Qaeda gained steam, the children were able to give fear a home. They saw Voldemort as evil while we saw bin Laden as evil. They watched this fictitious evil grow stronger, be fought, grow stronger yet again. And they watched Harry, and all the other ‘good’ people, as they struggled to counter the terrorist acts of Voldemort and the Death Eaters. It was much the same as the West struggled to beat back, contain and defeat bin Laden and al Qaeda. While this real-life process will take a lot more than a wave of a wand or a spoken “Latin” phrase, the connection is clear.

Now, a decade later, Bin laden is dead. Voldemort has been obliterated. And while the destruction, pain and devastation remain, so does hope. Our children have grown. They’re no longer wide-eyed and innocent. They are now street smart and educated. They’re young adults coming into their own, recognizing good and evil. Understanding where each rests in society, and feeling confident that they can overcome it. They can fight back. They witnessed the most horrific act of terrorism in US history. They witnessed the destruction of the fictitious world they love. And they witnessed, “19 Years Later” as it says in the book, how even through horror, even through death and destruction, life goes on.

There is no line between winning and losing. That area is blurred and wide. Winning is measured by love, friendship and integrity, while loss occurs when there is no hope.

Harry Potter will forever be a force in the minds of an entire generation. It thrilled. It frightened. It stirred. I will miss hearing about the newest book coming out and the newest film being released. I will miss the excitement in my daughter’s young eyes as she discussed the symbolism she saw in the stories. I will miss the years of toy wands, wizard-cape costumes and witch’s brooms. A lifetime – my child’s lifetime – was shared with Harry Potter. I watched her grow and mature along with the characters. The actors.

I am sad to see it end, but I am happy we had it at the time we did. Besides giving children a fantasy to explore, it gave them books to read and ideas to debate and exchange. In the dark shadow of 9/11, Harry Potter offered hope, and for that, I am forever grateful.

Thank you Harry, Hermione, Ron and all the others. Most especially, thank you J.K. Rowling.

You  heard me sleepy heads, it’s Monday again. Time to shake up the muse. So without further ado…

Using these five words:

break

wide

memory

edge

filter

Tell us a story in five paragraphs or less.

Tribbles, as many people know, were – are? – an alien species humans found oddly compelling. They trilled or purred sweetly. They were soft and cuddly. They made humans feel happy. The trouble with Tribbles was how rapidly they reproduced. Suddenly these precious fluffy purring things were everywhere, including the engine of the Starship Enterprise!

Too many tribbles spoiled the inner workings, distracted people from their jobs and basically caused chaos in an otherwise well-run system. Of course, in the end, the Tribbles saved the day. Yes, many of them sacrificed their lives to do so, but without them, the poisoned grain would not have been discovered and people would have died.

What do tribbles have to do with writer’s workshops? Everything.

Workshops, to the writer, are as appealing and irresistible as Tribbles were to the crew of the Enterprise.  While Tribbles gave physical comfort with their soft fuzzy bodies and sweet cooing, workshops give emotional comfort with their promise of clarity and focus. Writers flock to them – especially THIS writer. Paying with cash and time. Investing creative energy into new methods to develop characters, plot and theme, as well as new ways to see each.

The trouble with workshops, like Tribbles, is they way they multiply. The way the lectures pile up until there are mounds of them – mostly filled with phenomenal advice about the writing craft. The trouble with workshops, like Tribbles, is their allure.

And so, despite the distraction of Tribbles and workshops, I simply cannot resist their pull. And I, clearly, will not even try.

Resistance is futile.

=======

Of course, the ‘sane’ part is up for debate, but I’m happy to say there was minimal blood-loss as I completed my new query and synopsis.

The synopsis scared me even more than the query. I knew my characters so intimately that I couldn’t imagine breaking their stories down to the simplest terms – as required for a synopsis. What about all the ‘other stuff’ they endured throughout their story…?

However, with the help of a phenomenally efficient list of questions, I was able to zero in on what truly mattered and tell my story in under three double-spaced pages. THREE. Double-spaced. That is an amazing feat for me since the shortest synopsis I’ve ever written was four pages, single-spaced.

How did I do it? With help from a lot of people and places but especially from a brilliant article by Gina Ardito: The Top Ten Questions for a Successful Synopsis.

If you’re struggling with your synopsis, read Gina’s article. You’ll be amazed. I was.

And now I wait. I’ve submitted my baby to three more agents/publishers and, since responses can take months, I’m off on a new adventure. Plotting another story. As I mentioned in an earlier post – Creating the Mood – I’ve chosen a gorgeous new journal, a seductive soundtrack and a sultry frangrance. As for inspiration, I am in no way lacking.

Onward.

=====

So, you know what comes after edits and revisions of a manuscript? Edits and revisions of the synopsis and query.

I’ve been told, several times, that the synopsis should be written before the story. If you can do that, I highly suggest it. However, since I’m not a plotter, but a pantser, writing the synopsis ahead of time would be like plotting the abduction of my muse. The fun part of writing, the creative part – for me at least – is in the discovery. When  I start to write, I have an idea of where I’m going. Blips of scenes flicker in my mind, in flip-book form. From there, I develop the meat of the story.

Months later, when the story is complete – and polished – I try to write a two-paragraph query and both a short and long synopsis but find myself overwhelmed by all of the intricate plot twists, emotional discoveries and settings. The query and the synopsis are supposed to ‘tell’ (not “show”) your story in a compelling yet succinct way. A way that clearly showcases your voice and your story’s tone. You can think of the query and synopsis as relaying an event to a friend. You’d hit the high points, string out the suspense of it, keep them interested without bogging them down with details. That’s what you want in your query and in your synopsis. You want to hook an agent or editor with the high points, showing them the entire work without showing them the ENTIRE work.

What’s your story about?

It seems like such a simple question to answer. And no doubt you can. But can you do it in twenty seconds or less? I couldn’t. I found even my own eyes glazed over when I tried to tell my story.

We must be creative artists when we write the story but marking pros when we sell it. It’s hard to switch hats like that.

I approached my first – hundred or so – attempts at this backwards. I had just finished revisions and figured I’d never know the story better and so writing the 1-page query and short-ish  (2-3 page synopsis) should be easy. Or should I say, ‘easier’?

I started at the beginning and wrote. Soon, I was caught in the story’s rhythm. Writing the query and synopsis in glorious detail, only to remember that wasn’t the place for it. My poor muse slumped. She’d been giddy. Guiding me through, reminding me of ‘moments’ so compelling, to me, that they just had to be included in this selling tool.

I resorted to bribery and promised my muse a new story. I tossed a thought out there and she ran off with it, trying to figure out how to work that idea into 300 pages of colorful language and gripping scenes.

I also did the dishes, the laundry, the vacuuming and grocery shopping. And then I sat down to write. My goal? One sentence. From the “Snowflake Method” to “Pitch University“, I’ve always heard about breaking the story down to one sentence. I could not imagine how to do it then found help in the form of examples from Nathan Bransford‘s fantastic site.

Using his examples as a guide, I went through several drafts of my ‘one-line’ pitch until, finally, hours later, I had it. If you can break your story down to it’s raw form – which, for me ,turned out to be the idea that prompted the story in the first place – you can find your one-sentence pitch. Don’t get me wrong – it’s not. Maybe, though, it’ll get easier with time and practice.

Meanwhile, that one sentence grew into one paragraph. That paragraph being the way I’d tell friends and strangers about my story. Just enough detail to cover the main plot and leave them wanting more.  From there, came two-paragraphs, with more emotion, more mood and a touch more detail. Those paragraphs are for the query.

It took hours to write those lines. You’d think after hours of work you’d have more to show than that, yes? But if it took months, maybe a year or more, to write the story, shouldn’t it take a decent amount of time to market it properly? I rushed through my original query, thinking I just had to give a basic idea of what my story was about. Now, I realize it’s not simply what it’s about, but specifically and succinctly what happens, why and what’s at stake for your characters.

I’ll repeat – it wasn’t easy. I’m sure I’ll be banging my head on the keyboard next go-round. But now that I’ve invested the time the query needs and deserves, the process finally makes sense.

What’s next now that the query is finished? The synopsis. Let the head-banging begin.

========

There is no question most writers enjoy writing but not editing or revising. It’s a simple fact that the creation of a story is more enjoyable than the repairs of that story. I see it as having and raising a child.

Pregnancy, labor and delivery are not exactly easy but through your sweat and determination you have this beautiful creation. Perfect in its newness, its innocence. It is love at first sight.

Then comes the hard part. The guiding, the lectures, the tantrums and frustrations. The times you want to throw up your hands and give up, go running from the house. But you don’t. Because this is your baby and you want it to be all it can be. It’s love. It’s dedication. It’s a total reflection on YOU.

As is the story you write… and must revise.

Revising, to me, is like dealing with  a child’s troubling teenage years. It’s a test of patience and of love. A time when all the beauty and innocence you saw and felt at that first stage, comes back at you as if your input was a vile, unappreciated thing and must all be undone. It’s a battle of wills and understanding. Emotional standoffs grounded by love you know is there but cannot hold quite as closely as before.

And then, suddenly, there’s peace. A sort of understanding and middle-ground-met. A balance of your vision for your child and your child’s vision for her or himself. It’s that respect which allows your child go into the world armed with the ability to stand alone and make you proud.

The difference between all that and revisions is time. You have nearly two decades to work with your child and while revisions may seem as long, they, in all honestly, should not be.

Mine however, have gone on longer than the writing itself. To be fair to the writer in me, I will acknowledge that the editing process has gone well throughout the story. It’s simply the opening which stumps me. And after several revisions of that opening, I’m still not happy.

I have now set a deadline. By this Friday my opening will be good or it won’t be. Either way, I will be sending queries. It’s up to me – and my muse, of course – to decide whether those queries will be for work I’m proud to call my own or work I’m embarrassed to put my name to.

So, for much of this week, I intend to read. Oh, how hard that work will be. You can imagine a dramatic sigh here. I will read openings from some of my favorite authors – like Nora Roberts, Lisa Jackson, Jude Deveraux, Linda Ford, Kate Pearce and more. And I will see how and why their opening pages work. And then, filled with the wisdom and motivation of those I admire, I will revise my opening pages and send them off into the world to, hopefully, stand on their own and make me proud.

=====

I always use my laptop to plot and write my stories. It just makes sense to do so since I type faster than I write by hand. Also, the words never flow quite right on the first run and revising via computer is a whole lot easier – highlight/delete – than revising with pen and paper.

Still, there’s an attraction to a new blank journal that I cannot ignore. Something  about the crackle of a new journal’s spine as you open it and smooth the pages flat. Something about the flourishes, the blank space, the actual feel of it in your hands as you re-read what you’ve written there.

I still have journals from years ago – from my teens and before. I often look at them, read them, and reconnect with the girl I was. I remember her well. Though I’m glad to know a big part of her has been left in the past. Now, when I journal, it’s live and public – and often 140 characters or less – and not quite as soul-searching or revealing as it had been. That’s okay because I’m not sure I want to reveal myself the way I used to. I’m not sure I even remember how to be so open. Even to myself.

However, while journal-ing may not be a favorite pastime of mine, writing still is. Though it’s more than a pastime, for sure. And so, I bought a new journal, with a cover meant to inspire even the most stubborn muse. And I have a new perfume oil to compliment the image on the journal. Add to all that, the right music, and my muse will sing like she’s never sung before. I feel it. I want it. I’m ready for it.

Yes, music and scent. They create a mood. An atmosphere. A sense of being somewhere new, secret, mysterious. Where the muse is safe and free to create. Sure, I could sit at the computer and ‘think’ myself into another place but it’s not the same as being as immersed in it as possible.

The music is always the hardest part for me to select. I want something I enjoy, of course, but also something that fits the story I hope to write. That will enhance the mood, yet fade into the background. Something to help add dimension to the words, in ink, on the page.

The scent I’m using for this story is named perfectly, in my opinion. It’s from a company called, The Poison Apple Apothecary and they call it, Parlor.  I can’t get enough of the scent. I put a few drops on a cotton puff and place it in a glass bowl that sits beside me as I write. Lovely.

Poison Apple describes the fragrance this way: The heady scent of sweet pipe tobacco wafting through a large parlor with dark oak floors and imperial furnishings.

I wish I could dab a bit of it onto the screen so you could smell it for yourself.

As for my inspiring journal, it’s from Peter Pauper Press and it is simply gorgeous. Just look at this cover -

Isn’t it beautiful?

And now to the music. For this current story, I chose something seductive, something meant to lull me into the moment where a sultry summer night breeze carries these soulful and soothing strains…

I’d have you listen to it – in fact, I posted this sexy saxophone piece originally – but since then, the artist sent me a rather abrupt and threatening message demanding I remove the link to his music. So, rather than further distract or upset an artist with my tiny online presence, I’ve obliged. And I’ve chosen new music as a backdrop for my work since I need and enjoy a more positive vibe than this piece would, from here on, provide.

You know, being a writer can be a truly wonderful thing.

Sometimes.

Otherwise known as rejections or the big “R”.

As a writer, I know rejections come with the territory. Writing is such a subjective art that to expect anyone else to ‘get it’ is presumptuous at best, arrogant at worst. But to hope… well, that’s another story.

As a writer, I’ve written stories that intrigue me. I’ve developed characters about whom I care. I’ve given them twisted backgrounds a company of therapists would vie to take on. And I’ve allowed those characters to find themselves, face their pasts and forge new outlooks and relationships in the form of happily ever after. I’ve upped the stakes for them, hoping to challenge them in every way possible without tipping to farce, in order to show how life, from th

e outside looking in, is much easier to live than from the inside looking out.

Too bad I can’t apply that same vision to myself. For now, I sit with a long-in-coming rejection. One I’d imagined would never arrive. I thought this was ‘it’, the big break, and that from here my writing path would be free of at least one obstacle. I would like to look in from the outside but, when I try, I only see hours, days, months, years of working toward a dream that has yet to come true. I can only wonder whether I’ve invested too much to stop now, or whether I’ve invested too much to bother investing more.

I always pose this question when a rejection comes through. And I always seem to overcome it with new energy, new determination. New characters and stories. Now? I don’t know. I guess I can’t speak for what will happen or how I’ll think in the coming months. But at this moment, I can only say it’s time to turn over, fluff the pillow and find myself a new dream.

==========================================================================================

I confess… I prefer to ask questions of people in the know rather than thumb through a book searching for an answer on my own. Now, I understand how that might seem lazy to some people but, in my defense, I have to say it’s not that at all. It is simply my inability to realize when I’ve researched ‘enough’. Yes, the Gemini in me comes into play when I research.

“But why…?” “And how…?” “So if she does this then shouldn’t he…?”

Sad but true. I am the Question Diva.

Take recently while I was researching hiking and backpacking for a new story. There is an extraordinary amount of information out there on the subject. I borrowed books from the library. I followed unending links online. I questioned fellow writers who have experienced this first hand. I even went to sporting goods stores to handle gear and determine precisely which items my inexperienced heroine might use as opposed to those which my seasoned-hiker hero would use.

And then what? I became hooked. I wanted to know more. And more. I contemplated a backpacking trip with my family to the very mountains where my story was set. Me. Backpacking. The girl who won’t even stay in her own yard long after the sun goes down because of mosquitoes, slugs, raccoons and… whatever else might lurk in the darkness of an urban backyard.

We never did go on that trip – no surprise there – but I wish we had. I wish I’d had the guts. Why? Because after all that research, I wound up sabotaging myself, thinking I could never know enough about this subject to write it like a pro. If I’d experienced it myself, I could write it from my own perspective. I would have learned all I needed to learn in order to write about my heroine’s first experience with hiking/backpacking.
There’s a line Barbra Streisand sings in a song from Yentl – “The more I live – the more I learn, the more I learn – the more I realize the less I know.”

I love that line. It sums up life – and research – so well. We can never know all there is to know but if we respect and acknowledge our limitations, especially as writers, we can share what we’ve learned in a way that whets the appetite of others. Then, perhaps, they will become so energized by what has been shared that they will go out and take that backpacking trip.

Now, how wonderful would it be to receive a note from a reader saying how a story you wrote made them ache for the adventure your characters experienced?

Bliss.

But now, my research has taken me to some other place. A place I don’t want to visit. Weaponry. Fortunately – or not, depending how you look at it – there are plenty of people knowledgeable in this area. And these people are willing to share what they know. In fact, many are thrilled to answer questions, no matter how dark or sinister they might be. Why? Because they’ve done their research and they’re proud to share their knowledge, and… most importantly… they don’t worry if they can’t answer every question. In fact, they know they can’t.

I have finally realized something… I don’t have to handle or shoot a gun in order to write about my hero or heroine doing so. I have only to take enough time to understand how they would feel doing it – what it sounds like, what the recoil feels like, how it affects them emotionally when they hit someone. Or miss.

My stories are about characters. About the way they see the world and interact. Whatever research I do, has to be with my characters in mind. They ARE taking that hiking trip. They ARE shooting that .38 Special. And it has to be with my readers in mind, because they are taking that trip or shooting that gun right along with the characters. And I want them to feel every delicious and decadent second of it.

The best part of being away from my writing… the only good part about being away from my writing… is coming back to it to find I actually like what’s already there.

Being too close to the work while also tackling some of life’s harsh demands, makes the process difficult and the prose less than poetic. Or so it seems. It isn’t until a break from the work clears my mind that the writing actually makes me smile. In relief.

I just finished reading my current chapter-in-progress aloud to Daughter who gave it the thumbs up. And when I asked what questions the scenes prompted in her mind, she told me exactly what I hoped to hear. Naturally, I won’t be answering those questions just yet. This is Romantic Suspense, after all. Knowing I was headed in the right direction before life pulled me away makes me eager to get back into it and see where these characters will take me next.

Man, I love my job.

Yesterday I decided to look over some of my past work and was reminded that I’d entered a couple of contests – synopsis contests, first 100 word contests, passion contests. What I found most interesting was not so much the final scores, but the judges’ comments.

In one contest, two judges read the first chapter from one of my stories. One judge had mounds of praise. The other, clearly, wasn’t all that impressed. Both, however, touched on the same issue and that was the takeaway for me.

In another contest, a synopsis was judged and I found a particular comment very interesting. One dropped word from that synopsis changed the entire meaning for one of the three judges who’d read it.  In changing the meaning for that judge, the missing word took logic and flow right out of the synopsis and she was left thinking I’d failed to tie up all the loose ends in a satisfying way. And, she was right. My fault. Instead of saying the villain was my hero’s “business partner”, I simply said he was my hero’s “partner”. When the villain did all of his crazy things and met his end, I, naturally, didn’t delve into the emotional trauma this would have for the hero on an intimate level. They weren’t lovers, they hadn’t been in a relationship beyond business. And yet, because of that one missing word, my synopsis left this one judge feeling dissatisfied and annoyed.

I know the written word is much easier to misunderstand than the spoken word. Because of that, I do try to say precisely what I mean. Unfortunately, that goal is not always met and so misunderstandings, misinterpretations occur. The best we, as writers, can do is aim for clarity. Write our stories, walk away and come back to them with fresh eyes. Chances are, problems will be more apparent after a break from the text and we’ll be able to make the necessary adjustments. Having a critique partner or two is also a tremendous aid in fixing issues like this – and others.

It’s not easy to put our work out there for scrutiny. We pour our energy, love and time into these stories, these characters that we develop from nothing, nurture and guide as if they were of our flesh. And then someone picks them apart, telling you what  “doesn’t quite work” for them. It’s hard to knock down that ego-protecting wall we build around us, but it’s vital to do so.

When I first read the comments from the judge who misunderstood, I couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. When she mentioned, toward the end of her critique, that I would no doubt submit this work to a publisher open to non-traditional relationships, I finally realized what she thought. Confused as to why, I had to review what I’d written and that’s when I found the word “partner”.

It’s very simple – you cannot catch every glitch and you cannot please everyone. But we have to be open to criticism when we put such a subjective product out there with our names on it. Not everyone will “get it” the way we hope they will, but those who do will be your audience and it is for the sake of your audience that feedback of all kinds is to be embraced.

Keep writing! Keep improving! And keep an open mind.

I just bought myself a NOOK. Cousin to the Kindle. I couldn’t wait to hold it in my hands, to turn it on and start reading.

The first book I downloaded was Jude Deveraux’s, Lavendar Morning. The second book I downloaded was Jude Deveraux’s, Days of Gold.

Sense a pattern?

I was concerned about purchasing the NOOK. Well, not about purchasing it, but about using it to read my books. I love cuddling up in the corner of my sofa with a cup of tea and a great read. Would I feel as connected to the story with an e-Reader? How could I? You can’t bury your face into it, you can’t smell the pages and you can’t fan through them either.

But so many of my friends are E-published and I wanted more than anything to take their books with me wherever I went so I could snuggle up and read. The NOOK surprised me. It’s not at all like reading a book via my laptop. That’s like working. The NOOK is the size of a book. I bought a case for it that opens like a book and I can hold it in my hands JUST LIKE A BOOK.

I have since downloaded… uploaded? …E-books I’ve previously purchased and stored on my computer. Now, I can proudly scan through the covers of my friend’s books. I can choose which one to read. Again. And best of all, I can carry all of those books with me wherever I go. They’re all neatly stored in a tiny file somewhere on my lovely little NOOK.

No. I can’t smell the pages, but I can flip through them. I can snuggle up and connect with the story the same as if I held a paperback in my hands. I will never give up my hardcopy books, but I’ve already fallen in love with my e-Reader.

Oh. And the case I bought for it contains a wonderful quote by G.K. Chesterton that sums it all up –
Literature is a luxury;
fiction is a necessity.

A few weeks ago, reality strangled fiction. Never before had I wished so hard the two could be reversed since my pen can only revise fiction. I’d rewrite it so loss wouldn’t take place, or if it had to, then all the main characters would be there in time and express their love and admiration without reservation, pride or any other obstacle to raw honesty.

I have no regrets regarding expression. My grandmother knew my feelings for her, I never kept them a secret. My regrets lie in time not spent. One extra phone call. Would it really have been so hard? A few extra minutes just sharing a quiet moment. What I wouldn’t give for the chance at both now. Though, I know, we can never do all we wish we could with someone, no matter how much we adore them.

And now, four weeks to the day since it happened, I still feel the pain and the sadness and, in a way, hope I always do to some degree. I never want to forget what she meant to me or how it felt/feels to lose her. She was that special and her loss is a reminder of how precious all we have truly is.

And yet, life continues. My story, however, has suffered severe neglect. It’s a new month, a new day, and for my grandmother, I need to make this story succeed. She’d always ask how I was doing with my book. And I’d always say, “I’m working on it, Grandma.” Well, I haven’t worked on it in a while but now is the time to roll up the sleeves and have at it again. She wanted me to succeed. She wanted to know about the stories I was creating, the characters’ problems, the happily ever after. She knew it was fiction, knew happily-ever-after is not a real thing, but suspended disbelief because she believed in me. So. I have a story to write. Characters to torture. Happily-ever-afters to create. And when the muse wants a day off, I’ll just remember the promise and have at it again.

I’m working on it, Grandma. For you. And it’s gonna be great.

I survived my Book in a Week marathon and did pretty well, if I may say so myself. Not surprisingly, though, I broke some rules AND I did not write the entire first draft. I’m not sure I expected to. Not really. Though I had hope.

I noticed something vital about myself and my writing during my marathon week. I need the details. I need character reactions. I cannot just write the story without all the layers, the angst, the passion, because those layers and passion are what drive my plot. The way a character responds to a given moment, leads me in the direction s/he needs to go.

That’s not to say my story gets away from me and winds up in the fickle hands of my fictional characters. No. It means, I have direction and will get there, but whether I take the highway or the scenic route is up to ‘them’ not me. Forcing the story out is like driving through a torrential downpour. Yeah. You’ll get there but only because you wanted it to be over. Not because you were enjoying the ride.

When I give my characters a chance to absorb what I’d thrown at them, they reward me with texture I could not create on a second pass. Well, maybe I could, I don’t know. What I do know is how the freshness of the moment, of the reaction, drives my story forward. And so, BIAW might not work for me as it works for others, but then, everyone’s process is unique and I find it rewarding to have found just a little bit of magic in mine.