Allison Martine's Blog - Posts Tagged "dibs"
How to Break a Heart Without Breaking Quarantine
(This blog originally appeared on Breaking Rules Publishing's Website)
Welcome to my brief tutorial on how to write a romance novel (or two) while surviving being trapped in a duplex with three children under the age of ten. Normally, writing a romance should be done in a glamorous setting: a Swiss chalet, cozied up under a faux fur throw; digging your toes into the sand while the waves crash in the background; anywhere you can sip a Manhattan. (Including Manhattan.) Social distancing means you will need to bring the romance to you. You will not have the luxury of being inspired by your scenery unless piles of dirty laundry make you swoon.
Step One: Gather your weapons
You’ll need a computer. Don’t kid yourself. This isn’t the time for a leather-bound journal and calligraphy pen. You will not have a spare moment to copy down what you write from paper to screen. You’ve got one shot before someone needs you to wipe their butt. Don’t blow it.
Coffee is not mandatory but strongly suggested. You haven’t slept well since before Obama was president. Wine is fine. You aren’t driving. Nobody’s driving.
Keep a bowl of snacks nearby. Star Wars fruit snacks, Funyuns, and squeezable apple sauce are recommended. Obviously these are not for you but to hand to anyone who inevitably starts whining that they’re hungry. Toss them as necessary, like you’d throw meat to a lion.
Step Two: Train your senses:
You’ll need to learn to tune out the following noises: the bing-bing-bing of a railroad crossing gate, forty minutes straight, since your four-year-old is still obsessed with watching trains and he can only do that now on YouTube. The sound of an entire Lego bin getting dumped all over the wooden floor—you will step on them later, barefoot. Brace yourself. Rustling in the kitchen—foraging is encouraged because it means they’re not bothering you.
But not these noises: water running—it might be someone washing their hands. It is probably someone peeing on the floor. It is definitely not the dishwasher because only you know what the buttons do or how to run it. The bing-bing-bing that the refrigerator is open. (It is a different pitch than the bing-bing-bing of the railroad crossing; learn to distinguish the two.) Screaming. There will be a lot of screaming. You’ll need to separate the brawlers.
Step Three: Set the Mood
Unless you have a partner willing to watch your munchkins while you lock yourself away in your writing dungeon or what have you—and if so, well done!—you will have to be able to accept the cognitive dissonance of watching your children WHILE trying to simultaneously visualize your characters gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. You’ll have to change a training potty but still envision a hot tub, or stir Spaghetti-Os but summon up the smell of filet minon or crème brulee. You can’t very well light a soft candle because someone will inevitably burn off an eyebrow or set their sister’s doll’s hair on fire.
Vision boards are great for this, so scour the internet for pictures that remind you of the people or places that you want to include in your novel. Obviously this is all a thinly veiled excuse to look up thousands of pictures that you base the love interest on, but it’s for your novel, so it’s okay, and you definitely aren’t a stalker.
Step Four: Write, Maybe
You’ve got your equipment and hopefully some inspiration and you are ready to write that novel. The perfect scene will descent into your brain, as if gifted by Cupid himself. The moment you go to type that out, someone will have found the xylophone and begin to plonk out what might be Three Blind Mice but all you know is the muse has left you and so has your patience.
Repeat as often as necessary until novel is complete.
Welcome to my brief tutorial on how to write a romance novel (or two) while surviving being trapped in a duplex with three children under the age of ten. Normally, writing a romance should be done in a glamorous setting: a Swiss chalet, cozied up under a faux fur throw; digging your toes into the sand while the waves crash in the background; anywhere you can sip a Manhattan. (Including Manhattan.) Social distancing means you will need to bring the romance to you. You will not have the luxury of being inspired by your scenery unless piles of dirty laundry make you swoon.
Step One: Gather your weapons
You’ll need a computer. Don’t kid yourself. This isn’t the time for a leather-bound journal and calligraphy pen. You will not have a spare moment to copy down what you write from paper to screen. You’ve got one shot before someone needs you to wipe their butt. Don’t blow it.
Coffee is not mandatory but strongly suggested. You haven’t slept well since before Obama was president. Wine is fine. You aren’t driving. Nobody’s driving.
Keep a bowl of snacks nearby. Star Wars fruit snacks, Funyuns, and squeezable apple sauce are recommended. Obviously these are not for you but to hand to anyone who inevitably starts whining that they’re hungry. Toss them as necessary, like you’d throw meat to a lion.
Step Two: Train your senses:
You’ll need to learn to tune out the following noises: the bing-bing-bing of a railroad crossing gate, forty minutes straight, since your four-year-old is still obsessed with watching trains and he can only do that now on YouTube. The sound of an entire Lego bin getting dumped all over the wooden floor—you will step on them later, barefoot. Brace yourself. Rustling in the kitchen—foraging is encouraged because it means they’re not bothering you.
But not these noises: water running—it might be someone washing their hands. It is probably someone peeing on the floor. It is definitely not the dishwasher because only you know what the buttons do or how to run it. The bing-bing-bing that the refrigerator is open. (It is a different pitch than the bing-bing-bing of the railroad crossing; learn to distinguish the two.) Screaming. There will be a lot of screaming. You’ll need to separate the brawlers.
Step Three: Set the Mood
Unless you have a partner willing to watch your munchkins while you lock yourself away in your writing dungeon or what have you—and if so, well done!—you will have to be able to accept the cognitive dissonance of watching your children WHILE trying to simultaneously visualize your characters gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. You’ll have to change a training potty but still envision a hot tub, or stir Spaghetti-Os but summon up the smell of filet minon or crème brulee. You can’t very well light a soft candle because someone will inevitably burn off an eyebrow or set their sister’s doll’s hair on fire.
Vision boards are great for this, so scour the internet for pictures that remind you of the people or places that you want to include in your novel. Obviously this is all a thinly veiled excuse to look up thousands of pictures that you base the love interest on, but it’s for your novel, so it’s okay, and you definitely aren’t a stalker.
Step Four: Write, Maybe
You’ve got your equipment and hopefully some inspiration and you are ready to write that novel. The perfect scene will descent into your brain, as if gifted by Cupid himself. The moment you go to type that out, someone will have found the xylophone and begin to plonk out what might be Three Blind Mice but all you know is the muse has left you and so has your patience.
Repeat as often as necessary until novel is complete.
Reader Seeks Romance!
Allison Martine was recently interviewed by Liz Donatelli on Reader Seeks Romance, right here:
https://youtu.be/5SGxZw5ZmRw
https://youtu.be/5SGxZw5ZmRw
