Inspiration is all around.

 Where do I get my inspiration from? That’s an easy answer - Everywhere!

For the novel, characters are formed in my head, either from a random photo I find on Google, or someone I might pass on the street. Sometimes an actor I’ve seen can spark a character (hopefully I’ll get them to play the character in the Netflix series - a girl can dream). Or mannerisms I see from spending far too long people watching in cafes, pubs or restaurants. Most of my characters are a mixture of bits of people I’ve borrowed, with a lot of imagination thrown in.

The old adage of writing what you know, sort of works even for Urban Fantasy, you have to keep one foot in reality for it to work.

Locations can be actual places I’ve visited, or sometimes if I can’t get to them easily it’s a wander down the streets of somewhere courtesy of Google street view.

The lift in Waterstones once gave me an idea for a horror short (the good news is it’s been fixed and no longer stops an inch above the floor). Bonfire night at the Forest also became the setting for another.

There’s an important scene in the novel that is set in what was our local pub for a good number of years. 

                                             (The local)

I’ve got notebooks full of half-scribbled ideas, Google docs with half-written short stories, (one day they will be finished - or incorporated into a novel)

So yes, anyone or anywhere can spark an idea, sometimes they become fully blown stories, sometimes they sit there for years and then pop up completely out of the blue for a scene.

I like accuracy, especially with locations. Sometimes for a scene (that might only be a paragraph, or two) I’ll research the heck out of it. It has to be right.

My main character in the novel was a blacksmith back in the 1400’s, so I’ve spent hours reading about the history of smithing. He’s thinking of taking it up again, so I’ve asked a friend next time she gets her horses shod can I watch.

In a short story a character broke their leg, yea lots of research went on there too, so much so I could probably set a leg myself (not that I’m going to try).

I love where my inspiration takes me, most of the time somewhere dark and brooding. If anything happens to my nearest and dearest, I’ll have to scrub my Google history.

Who knew chickens were so loud.

 So it's two years this week since we moved to the country. Now instead of sirens wailing and waking me up. There's chickens.

Yep you heard me, chickens. Oh and if the winds in the right direction, sometimes cows.

Oh don't get me wrong, I like chickens, the ones that live across the road are very cute. I know this as they have escaped into our garden a couple of times. Confused the dogs no end.

This got me thinking about our ability to adapt to our surroundings. When I was young I lived in a house on a main road going through the town, huge lorries would come hurtling past at all hours and they never disturbed me, because I was used to it.

Then I moved to the city, as I mentioned previously, sirens at all hours, police, fire, ambulance the lot. We lived just down from the prison. I used to get asked if I was worried, no, never even thought about it. There's a convenience to living on the outskirts of the city, buses every ten minutes into the centre, which when I first moved there was thriving. Now when I go, it isn't, it looks tired.

Now I'm in the countryside in a smallish village, we have two shops, one pub and a garage. The buses are every couple of hours and don't run late into the night. There is no taxi service, the closest supermarket is six miles away. Does it bother me? No, not in the slightest.

I don't like change, but at the same time I am adaptable, throw me a situation and I deal with it, but try not to get in my way. It's the same with the writing, if something doesn't work I adapt it, I still don't change the plan, as I know where it's going, but I will adapt it to make it better. I've just spent the last week going over the first six chapters of book two, which on initial read were rather boring, so I've pulled a few bits forward, ramped up the tension quite a bit and it works so much better, but the story itself hasn't changed. Obviously there are times when it has to change, then I make sure it changes for the better, as with everything else, change can be good. (Doesn't mean I have to like it at the time though).

Ah well enough rambling from me this week, the office assistants require feeding. They are very vocal about this.

Don't you hate it when you're right?

So last week I was sitting outside the van, in glorious sunshine, saying before you know it I'll be back in the study watching the rain run down the window, and guess what...... I was right.

Now I like to be right and wherever possible check my facts before running my mouth (most of the time). But yea, less rain would be good.

Both office assistants don't seem concerned and are snoring away happily while I work.

So talking of work, I'm a pantser, always have been, always will be. I've tried outlining, but what I get is boring writing as I'm trying to get my characters to stick to the preordained story-lines. What I have learnt over the course of this latest little story, is that I need to keep notes. Well a spreadsheet, broken down into drafts and chapters and scribbles. They are not pretty but they are helping to keep a rather complicated plot on track (most of the time).

Of course having decided that book two starts a little slow, I've moved a few bits around and am currently trying my hardest to pull it all together to build up the tension. At one point yesterday I nearly gave up, it wasn't making sense, it was too hard. I thought about going back to the original set-up, but I couldn't, it wouldn't be fair to my future readers to sell them short just because the job I was doing was hard.

So I took the junior assistant for a walk across the field, and the senior one just round the block and left my characters to it. When I got back they'd come up with a few ideas and this morning it's all falling into place. We all celebrated with a cup of tea.

So I suppose what I'm getting around to saying is, it's hard, lots of things are. But learning to take a break, take time to think about things is the way to go (oh trust me it's taken me a long time to learn that particular lesson, and not just with the writing). 

It's time to wake the senior office assistant to go to his monthly hydro session (a spanner who hates water - I swear he's broken) and then to have his monthly injection for his arthritis (he loves the vet, even though she sticks needles in him). I shall be taking the time to run a few possible scenarios through my head and hopefully it will all make sense when I sit back down.

Enjoying the summer (while we have it).

 So hubby, the office assistants and myself are all tucked up in our mobile home. (Don't worry it's big enough-just).

Which brings me to a thought, where do you work best?

I have a study at home that is perfect, especially in Winter. Candles and a real fire, helps set the mood.

But summer, I must admit I find it hard to write dark fiction in 27 degrees with the sun pouring through the window. But then I remind myself, my characters are still themselves, regardless of the weather outside, they still have to deal with the nightmares I dish out. There are things they have to cope with, even when it's 27 degrees and the sun is shining in their world. If they can do it, so can I.

I'm currently sitting outside the van, it's hot and sunny and I'm (well you know what I mean) about to wander into Hell for the novel. Wish me luck.

No doubt I'll be back in the study watching the rain pour down the window soon enough.