Writing in a consistent voice is critical to sustainingÂ your story’s world andÂ your hero’s point of view.
Select a piece of music that epitomizes your hero beforeÂ working on the story and when you make a few minutes to write, play that song.Â Perspective returns and the words fall into place.
If music doesnâ€™t work, try something that speaks to you;Â a white noise venueÂ likeÂ the food court at your local mall orÂ in front ofÂ a random Law & Order episode. Eat a particular sort of food or burn incense.Â Everyone is sensitive to different stimuli â€“ findÂ your inspiration.
Tuesday we were up for a wonderful breakfast with Colin and Lesley. The pool the previous night gave us an appetite, and we cajoled them to let us spend a third night, since our plans at the next destinations had more or less fallen through.Hunt day was sunny, with a crisp blue sky – we saw from our vantage point high on a grassy hill amongÂ a gymkhana of jumps, mounted hunters in period regaliaÂ scourÂ fields fallow and full, respendant below us. Hounds streamed along and through hedgerows that had seemed from ground level, impenetrableÂ 5-foot living walls.Eventually, we lost track of the hounds, but had a heartfelt conversation with a wandering dairy man about the state of the economy and especially the dairy board, which closely resembled the quota programs Kevin recalled from Canada.
Finally, I will proudly add, I spotted the hare, ears tight to his back and gliding just clear of the ground, running a hillock beside hounds & huntsman in the opposite direction.You can imagine, we were somewhat the worse for wear after roving the dales.Â Perceiving our initial demeanor was a trifle robust, I regaled my patient companions with a cautionary tale.Â Some years ago, a former sweetheart (attempting to soften the blow of our impending breakup) took me out for a sumptuous farewell dinner, only to have an obnoxious, drunken Texan goose the harpist, loudly blather rude jokes, and completely ruin the gesture. I said I hoped weâ€™d be quiet in respect for a formally turned-out couple in a romantic back corner of the room.From my companionsâ€™ loud silence, I came to realize that if anyone gets out of hand, itâ€™s me. Oops.Â Oh well, I do love to remember that night I was spurned at a romantic mountain getaway (and my last motorcycle ride). I sighed, lost in melancholy memories, while Kevin and Donna chatted animatedly about the hounds weâ€™d seen, might see, would see, and would not be able to see on our brief vacation.