In preparation for writing this blog, I grabbed a broom and swept wet leaves off of my backyard deck. Wet leaves do not want to be moved, in case you didn’t know, so it sweeping wet leaves falls just slightly into the category of backbreaking labor. Hey, I’m a writer. Filing my nails can be backbreaking under the right circumstances (like, for instance, I’m cranky). Anyway, the point being that, when I don’t know what to write, I walk away from the computer (okay, sometimes I run) and I do something else. Something physical and mindless and not fun.
Not all writers take this approach. Some, the famously diligent, contemplate the blinking cursor with a death glare, staring it into submission. They will not move from the computer until words have been written. They will not give up. They will drag the words out of their brains or kill the cursor trying. The cursor always gives in first.
My cursor is made of stronger stuff. Or I’m made of weaker stuff. Whatever.
The point is that, while I’m doing boring physical type stuff, ideas unlock in my head. Words practically assault me, begging to be put on the page. Scenes unfold in my mind while I’m folding the sheets, sparkling and bright (both the scenes and the sheets).
I wrote the scene below for HOW TO DAZZLE A DUKE after a quick run to the grocery store. The trip took twenty minutes. Writing the entire scene took less than an hour. That’s not bad time management, is it? At least I didn’t have to get into a staring contest with my cursor.
Groveling was the least she was prepared to do to attain her duke.
The very least.
Penelope was quite well aware that Lady Caroline, Sophia’s daughter, and Lady Louisa, Sophia’s something or other, not to mention Lady Amelia and the episode in the mews, had each achieved perfectly respectable husbands in a matter of days, if not hours, by getting themselves well and truly ruined.
How difficult could it be to arrange for Edenham to ruin her?
With Sophia’s aid, it should be simplicity itself.
Oh, most girls of good family, and even those of questionable family, would look at ruination as being the worst fate that could befall a girl. Ridiculous. The worst fate to befall a girl was not getting what she wanted, and in her case, what she wanted was a proper duke. If she had to get him improperly, well then. What of it? Once she’d got him, she’d got him. What could he do about it then?
The thing to do, naturally, was to arrange for Edenham to ruin her before every man in the ton became aware that ruination had become the new betrothal. Once they had done so, and she was not so naive as to believe they could be kept in the dark about it forever, it would become nearly impossible to lure a man into anything even resembling a compromising situation, which surely would turn Society on its head.