Everyone I know is flawed. All of the people I love and adore have blemishes. Each of my co-workers, from the boss on down, has defects. And me? If there were a country called Flawed, I'd be its Queen.
I'm working on a new book. Actually, I'm juggling two - a historical and a contemporary. I was working on the historical yesterday when it struck me that the hero was pretty damned tarnished. My mind flipped over to the contemporary and realized that yep, sho 'nuff, the hero has potholes in his character big enough to drive an 18-wheeler through.
My personal creative process starts with the characters and builds from there. From the characters flows the story. When its going well, one of them will often lead me down a path I never intended to travel, he or she will change the direction of the whole bloomin' book in a way that's gonna cause me no end of re-writes. Those characters, the ones whose tale I'm telling? They're never the good guys in the white hats from stable backgrounds earnestly seeking only a permanent committed relationship.
Invariably, my hero will be the spoiled rascal who's always lived life on his terms, by his rules. And those rules, like everything else in his world, tend to favor allowances rather than limits. His background may have been more or less stable, but it'll have enough instability, enough challenges, that it's made him tough, wily, and smart. My heroes are always smart. But he won't be looking to right the world's wrongs. Heck, he won't even be looking to right his own.
My hero will never walk into the story as the guy avoiding the tawdry, temporary pleasure of sex without strings. He surely won't be seeking a committed relationship. My hero will embrace the tawdry and wallow in the sex whilst avoiding good girls like they were one of those diseases he might pick up in his favorite brothel.
Yes, you guessed it. My heroes have always been varmits.
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