Into the Fire

I enjoy the different ways stories come to be told. Pre-conceived ideas that make it all the way to a finished manuscript, the stark realization that hits mid-thought of something else and becomes the compelling reason for another story. The experience that forms a narrative in the mind and makes its way into a plot. All the unique occurrences responsible for wonderful fiction.

As you know, I write love stories, heavy on the romance. And those of you who are familiar with my work know I wrote one murder mystery/police procedural. I will tell you how that came to be. A few years before I began that novel, I had a scene in my mind that became the focus of the first scene in that story. Immediately I thought, "I can't write a mystery!" And moved on. Suffice it to say, that scene came to me multiple times until I finally succumbed to the Lord's nudging, taking me back to the racetrack for its location. My oldest son introduced me to a friend who was a detective in the police force at the time, and, as they say, the rest is history. 

Race was the hardest novel for me to write because of the foreign territory of actually writing a murder mystery that featured a detective as the hero. So difficult for me because of the fear of making critical mistakes, using clichéd characters and situations, and basically embarrassing myself in the process in spite of excellent tutelage from the detective who helped me get things right. I got mostly good reports on it and even a State Patrolman read and enjoyed it. 

So that's how Race came to be . . . 

Father, you're amazing, patient, and so creative. Thank you for sharing your beautiful creativity with your creation. Nothing like you. Thank you is never enough. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.