DPolter (Note to self: Publish Blind so readers have a point of reference)

1-27-10

My husband has soooo much talent as a writer, he just doesn't see it. He reads me, he gives me ideas, the words i need - the life, the air my characters breathe and live. Danny. He said to get back in touch the way I used to be so that now I could write about the story instead of write it. He says that Ive written so much of it, it's just poured out of me, but I don't know where it's going. And he's right. He says to write about what Danny does in private, in between, what he thinks during. To answer questions the audience will ask. Be the 3rd person omniscient who is watching Danny, and his thoughts, feelings. What does he do to the girl in blind? Does he speak to her? Why does he go into her room? Is it just to get to know her? Does he lock the window open or find some other way to guarantee entrance?
        And then, he says it. The poetry was just pouring out of him, like he wasn't even trying... He makes it look so easy.
        He says,
"Maybe he kidnaps the girl from Blind. She wakes up, maybe tied to a chair or something. He's sitting across from her, and behind him, on the wall, are all the pictures he's taken of her. He's talking to her, but she's not scared, not one little bit, because she suddenly feels like he knows her better than anyone in the whole world, like he cares, maybe more than anyone in the whole world, that maybe this man is the only one who has ever really known her after all. No one knows her the way he does. She knows he cares."




 And so i'm lying in bed next to him, listening to this... the beautiful description that I couldn't have said or written better, and I find myself crying, inspired...   so thats why I'm in the living room, sitting on a blanket in a corner with a notebook and my music turned up loud, my glasses off so i can concentrate, trying my damnedest (thats how spellcheck says it's spelled) with my pink pencil and composition notebook to get back to the core of my character.

 Danny facts I may or may not have written down before:

Piercing blue eyes. black hair. Avg., not intimidating height. Easy smile, instantly comforts people in normal situations.
He keeps a dog. Takes extremely good care of her. Keeps a spare leash and studded collar in the trunk (No, the) glove compartment of his car "just in case" she goes missing gets loose.
At 19, he's interested in girls 16-19. At 20, 18-20. He grows up in his interests too.
The Dancer is 24.
The carbag he keeps in his trunk to help (or abduct) stranded roadside motorists and keep his own car in shape contains:
Duct tape,
rope,
WD-40 gloves,
coat hanger,
bottle of water x4,
emergency medical kit,
jumper cables,
a jack,
tire patch kit....  
add to this list as i think of more.