Wednesday, June 27, 2012

ordinary things

Usually I create a story by taking something ordinary and twisting it around and around. So I often take an ordinary event in my life, then twist and turn it, add excitement, sex, a myriad of emotions, and events that didn't happen and voila, a story.

The scary thing is when people know me. They know I did that thing (e.g. went to the Daintree). Because they know I did that, then they assume all the rest is factual too. *sigh* If only!

I didn't think this bothered me until Pain Surfer was published. Just a short story, but next time I was at the beach watching the kids surfing (we mostly have kids surfing here) I felt a little creepy. What if someone knew I wrote that story, would they assume I was having wicked thoughts about kids? That kind of worries me. But if I wrote murder mysteries, and set them in places I'd lived, would people assume I was a killer?

I have to get over this.

But... I was at the butcher's the other day. Butcher's shops are such male dominated, raw environments, which had me thinking... what if I set a story at a butcher's shop? And then I walked away with my steak under my arm and reality hit me. Could I ever shop at the butcher's again without blushing? Could I ever ask for sausages without hearing the double entendre?

Using ordinary things, ordinary places, and events in my life, might make writing the story more interesting, but can I live with the questions people will ask and the innuendo? Will I be able to walk into the butcher's without a huge smile on my face? Does it matter if I'm having fun?

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