Was it really as bad as all that? Yes! It was a down right travesty!
This morning , about 2 am, as inspiration hit me like a waterfall, I had a rush of inspiration. The words came flowing from that place, deep inside of me. That lovely place, where my muse sits playing the heart-strings of a budding romance. You know that place, right? Somewhere at the bottom of your heart that makes you all warm and loving.The place where you know sex is inevitable and the plot quickens to the sounds of the wild running mustangs.
Never mind that story chapters are nowhere near being ready for the juicy, lovey-dovey bits that send a female romance reader swooning to the floor in a passionate bliss.Oh come on… you know as well as I do, we have all been there at least once. 🙂
My characters demanded a love scene. They had met in my mind, they had hit that wall between friends forever and a full-blown love affair and had decided to jump off it into the throes of passion. Who am I, but, a story-teller capturing the tale of true love in words that would shame a sailor into silence.
As I hit the crescendo, the passionate embraces of the two would be lovers, I reached for my wine glass to fan the flames of the lusty description, when my heart dropped. The wine was gone! It was like being naked and hot then being walked in on by small children. You know you have to scramble to cover up and get dressed before they realized there was something naughty amiss. The mix of fear and chaos killing the mood you had so carefully staged, cultivated and shared… was nothing but a sticky memory with panting panic.
There at the very end, covers thrown back, Characters panting, waiting for a release, and the writer, too heart-broken to finish. I couldn’t go on. I went to bed with a 2500 word count, sad and dissatisfied.
An anti-climactic ending only a writer would understand.