Husbands As Story Fodder, Part 1
I'm sorry for missing my post last week. I'd like to blame it on a scheduling snafoo or some dramatic emergency at work, but the truth is I just plain didn't do it. I didn't feel like writing because my husband flew off to China for work that morning, which is something he does every few months.
He'll be gone for one or two weeks, and theoretically the quiet evenings would be the perfect time to get tons of writing done. The reality is that my routine gets so disrupted, I spend the entire time moping, eating junk food, and watching Grey's Anatomy. As cliche as it is, I can't sleep well when he's not here, because the bed is big and empty and we don't watch our shows together at night--and by the end of the week I'm sleep-deprived and running on fumes.
This got me thinking about how much my relationship with my husband influences my writing. There's the real-life stuff (how he affects the daily routine, his role in idea-generation and problem-solving), and then there's stealing things we do or say to give depth to fictional relationships. I'll break this into a two-part series, with one dedicated to each. Let's start with the real-life stuff.
The Physical Day
Having a husband encroaching on my space is sometimes helpful and sometimes hindering. I can't predict it very well. There are days where I need to be in the other room if I'm going to write, but there are also days where I want to be pressed up against him all cuddly-like before I can relax and concentrate. Maybe it has to do with the subject matter I'm writing? Your guess is as good as mine.
We are also creatures of habit. One of my favorite routines is on Saturdays when we usually get pancakes. He's someone who needs tons of sleep, and turns into a zombie otherwise. So I wake him up early, we go get yummy pancakes and coffee at the local pancake house, then we come home in the nice bright, crisp morning, he crashes back to bed for four hours, and I get writing done. When the habits are disrupted, my progress takes a nosedive--I work every third Saturday, and on those weekends, I'm likely to spend Sunday as a useless glob.
The Brainstorming
It turns out that this husband of mine is useless at brainstorming. He's very happy to listen to ideas. I'll often explain plots and characters to him over dinner, and he's excited by them. Then I get to the big question: "So what do you think I should do about that?"
"I don't know."
That's all I get. I can wait for him to say more. I can ask him the question in different ways. That's still the only answer. Oh well.
The Cheerleading
His most useful trait is as a cheerleader. He has complete faith that everything I write is brilliant and amazing. If I'm feeling defensive about something another writer said, I'll complain about it to him and he'll tell me how right I am (and he's very convincing about it). He'll listen to a plot explanation and then say how awesome and clever it is, and how much awesomer and cleverer it is than all the other sci-fi/fantasy books coming out right now.
He doesn't actually read anything that's still in draft. He's decided he will read it only when it's finished and printed, because otherwise he'd get stuck reading every new draft and get sick to death of it and not appreciate any of the cool stuff about the final draft. Which is a fair reason. I also support this decision because he does have the capability of being a critical reader, and if he's sitting right there reading it and immediately telling me what he thinks, there's no buffer. I need some space and time to get over my initial defensive reaction. But when it's him, right next to me, he gets the full force of "No, it has to be that way because...!"
Overall
I guess he's mainly a backdrop. He exists behind all my writing, but has no direct part in it. Our relationship, however, provides a lot of inspiration for actions and dynamics between characters that are in love. Tune in next week for some examples of how I try to use real-life experience to give my characters healthy, believable relationships.
He'll be gone for one or two weeks, and theoretically the quiet evenings would be the perfect time to get tons of writing done. The reality is that my routine gets so disrupted, I spend the entire time moping, eating junk food, and watching Grey's Anatomy. As cliche as it is, I can't sleep well when he's not here, because the bed is big and empty and we don't watch our shows together at night--and by the end of the week I'm sleep-deprived and running on fumes.
This got me thinking about how much my relationship with my husband influences my writing. There's the real-life stuff (how he affects the daily routine, his role in idea-generation and problem-solving), and then there's stealing things we do or say to give depth to fictional relationships. I'll break this into a two-part series, with one dedicated to each. Let's start with the real-life stuff.
The Physical Day
Having a husband encroaching on my space is sometimes helpful and sometimes hindering. I can't predict it very well. There are days where I need to be in the other room if I'm going to write, but there are also days where I want to be pressed up against him all cuddly-like before I can relax and concentrate. Maybe it has to do with the subject matter I'm writing? Your guess is as good as mine.
We are also creatures of habit. One of my favorite routines is on Saturdays when we usually get pancakes. He's someone who needs tons of sleep, and turns into a zombie otherwise. So I wake him up early, we go get yummy pancakes and coffee at the local pancake house, then we come home in the nice bright, crisp morning, he crashes back to bed for four hours, and I get writing done. When the habits are disrupted, my progress takes a nosedive--I work every third Saturday, and on those weekends, I'm likely to spend Sunday as a useless glob.
The Brainstorming
It turns out that this husband of mine is useless at brainstorming. He's very happy to listen to ideas. I'll often explain plots and characters to him over dinner, and he's excited by them. Then I get to the big question: "So what do you think I should do about that?"
"I don't know."
That's all I get. I can wait for him to say more. I can ask him the question in different ways. That's still the only answer. Oh well.
The Cheerleading
His most useful trait is as a cheerleader. He has complete faith that everything I write is brilliant and amazing. If I'm feeling defensive about something another writer said, I'll complain about it to him and he'll tell me how right I am (and he's very convincing about it). He'll listen to a plot explanation and then say how awesome and clever it is, and how much awesomer and cleverer it is than all the other sci-fi/fantasy books coming out right now.
He doesn't actually read anything that's still in draft. He's decided he will read it only when it's finished and printed, because otherwise he'd get stuck reading every new draft and get sick to death of it and not appreciate any of the cool stuff about the final draft. Which is a fair reason. I also support this decision because he does have the capability of being a critical reader, and if he's sitting right there reading it and immediately telling me what he thinks, there's no buffer. I need some space and time to get over my initial defensive reaction. But when it's him, right next to me, he gets the full force of "No, it has to be that way because...!"
Overall
I guess he's mainly a backdrop. He exists behind all my writing, but has no direct part in it. Our relationship, however, provides a lot of inspiration for actions and dynamics between characters that are in love. Tune in next week for some examples of how I try to use real-life experience to give my characters healthy, believable relationships.
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