Friday, March 14, 2014
Penned Wednesday afternoon, March 12th
I woke up this morning to the biggest snow of the season in a winter of big snows, and more snowy mornings than we’ve seen in years. Nearly a foot of white stuff, thick, heavy and wet, the weight of it covering every tree branch down to the smallest twig, and weighing down every pine bough.
I ran about the house in awe of it, taking pictures, putting on snow boots and my parka – it was about zero degrees outside, but I had to be in the middle of it for a few freezing moments.
After a season of pretty snow scenes, this one was just as magical as the first – a fairyland of peaceful white, but dark and moody with the sun still obscured by a thick layer of clouds.
By mid morning, I finally settled down to write. The last chapter, the finale scene in a novel that began last May 10th – Spontaneous Combustion.
I turned my Pandora to the Leonard Cohen channel; the deep earthy tones of Cohen, Dylan, Lennon, Waits and Morrison have been the background music for the final chapters of this novel, gritty, lusty, sensuous songs of life – touching the parts of me that write my most stirring BDSM fiction. Like snuggling into the lap of sex and staying there for a long slow-fucking ride. I’d been anticipating this scene for a month, once I figured out what that last scene would be. My muse had been writing it, choosing every word for me behind the scenes. I didn’t need to do a thing but feed it a few inspiring thoughts from time to time, based on the real time Master slave relationship that inspired the story in the first place. It was there when I needed it, just waiting for me to write the preceding scenes until I got to the ending.
I’ve been aware of mood and atmosphere during many of the books I write…but never has it been quite like this…
As the writing begins, I have the backdrop of the snowy landscape outside my big porch windows to stare at when I need to rest my eyes from the computer screen. And as the words flow, I’m suddenly aware that this is special, these are moments that will never be experienced again. This is a one-time only event and I need to treasure every second. The words come easily, of course they do, I’m just copying off the script I’ve been living all these months.
There’s a dark, mood sensuality, like the music, that plays through this final scene.
And when I reach the final words – the tricky ones that have to be just right, that I often labor over for an hour or more, and rewrite a dozen times in a dozen different ways until I come to the final period – all of a sudden, the sky opens up and the sun streams forth across all that white snow. It’s 1:30 pm in the afternoon – the is sky bright and blue with billowy white clouds…there are shadows painted on the ground and everything not in shadows stands out in high relief...
Pandora is playing some gritty, bluesy old-timer singing a sweet and soulful rendition of You Are My Sunshine.
Who says there isn’t a special magic in this Universe, making merry with us?
This is why I write.
The book is done…well, except for three weeks of editing. Which begin tomorrow.
Tonight I celebrate. I lift my glass – Here’s to you Ken for setting the stage… and here’s to you, my partner in crime during this sexy, lust filled ride – my heartfelt thanks for all the fantasy you've shared with me, the hands-on research and the inspiration.