This week on Friday Feature, I have fellow Totally Bound author, N.R. Walker! She's going to talk about inspiration! And let me tell you, it's SPOT ON!
Who am I?
I am many things; a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer.
I have pretty, pretty boys who live in my head, who don't let me sleep at night unless I give them life with words.
I like it when they do dirty, dirty things...but I like it even more when they fall in love.
I used to think having people in my head talking to me was weird, until one day I happened across other writers who told me it was normal.
I've been writing ever since…
Inspiration is a funny thing. Inspiration can come from the most random things. You might be stuck in traffic, and BAM! You’re hit by a character or story line that is so crystal clear you just have to write it. Or a story on the news, or a documentary on National Geographic, or a line from a song, or even some random person you saw on the street. It could be a picture of your favourite swoon-worthy celeb (aka: Daniel Craig, Marlon Teixeira, Jeremy Renner, Chris Pine, Anderson Cooper... okay, so they’re some of mine...) and sometimes it’s a song by your favourite band/singer that feeds the plot of your story.
Wherever we get an idea from, or an inkling, or a full-blown plot arc, we take the simplest of ideas and from that, create tens of thousands of words in the form of fiction.
I have playlists of songs for each book, for each main character, ranging from Thirty Seconds to Mars to the Beatles. I have folders and folders on my laptop full of inspirational pictures - some are PG rated, some are... not. ;)
And writers quite often joke that these not-PG rated pics are not just inspiration, but also “research” – and quite often they are. But boy, they can be inspiring. Yes, the visuals help with physical limits and positions, but sometimes these small details are that give a character depth.
Small details that bring a character to life, that might have been overlooked if it weren’t for an image you found online somewhere. Maybe it’s tiny creases at the corner of his eyes, or the small scar on his chin, or a tattoo on a hip or maybe there’s a sadness in his eyes that gives the story a whole other sub-plot.
For my new story, Breaking Point, the inspiration came from watching MMA (cage fighting). My husband watches it, and by association, I do too. Admittedly it’s not an easy sport to watch. It’s violent and sometimes cruel, but there’s also something inspiring about having two half-dressed men in a cage, fighting, all sweaty and grappling on the floor.
Inspiration can come in the most unexpected of ways. And whether it’s sexy, or hauntingly sad, it’s a beautiful thing.
A fight for what's right becomes a fight for his life.
As guilt plagues him, Matthew Elliott’s world begins to spiral out of control. The harder he holds on, the more it slips through his fingers, and he’s helpless to stop it.
Entering into the underground cage-fighting scene, he starts out fighting for what’s right. The deeper he gets, the more guilt consumes him—the more pain he takes for his penance—and he’s soon fighting for more than justice.
He’s fighting for love.
He’s fighting for his life.
My phone beeped thirty long, torturous seconds later. On my way home. Won’t be long.
Fifteen minutes later he came in through the front door, walked through the lightless house, to find me in the kitchen.
“Matt?” he asked cautiously. “What are you doing in the dark?”
I exhaled at the sound of his voice. “I was worried…”
He walked closer, but kept a very cold four feet between us. “What were you worried about?”
“That something had happened to you,” I admitted quietly. “That you were too mad at me to come home.”
“Matt,” he said then let out a shaky breath. “I went and saw Mitch.”
My head shot up to look at him. “You what?”
He nodded. “I asked one of the guys at work if they’d seen him at the office, and they said yes. So I called him and asked if I could see him.”
I didn’t know where he was going with this. “And?”
“I told him I’m worried about you,” he whispered. “I told him about your fight last night, that I think something changed for you, somewhere along the way, something changed.”
My heart was hammering and it was getting harder to breathe. “I’m fine.”
“No,” he said quietly. Adamantly. “No, you’re not.”
“If this is about what Arizona said about the fight last night…”
“Partly, it is, yes. But something’s gotten into you, Matt.”
I shook my head and said the only thing I could think of to say. “Please don’t leave me.”
“Remember when you said to me,” I said, my words were a rush.
“Remember at the cabin when we stayed there for the week, you said if I were to leave you it was all for nothing. Remember? You said that?”