June 25, 2017
Living in the country, my life is full of simple pleasures. Sunday mornings are singular among them. The quiet is unbelievable, so much so I wonder if a city dweller, accustomed to the constant background noises of man, truly believe such quiet can exist.
Ron and Deuce are sleeping. The neighbors, my cousins, are ensconced behind their doors. They'll make noise soon, but never do they stir outside before seven-thirty on a Sunday morning.
This quiet morning, I took a notepad and my coffee outside to my deck. The spousal unit has taken over the patio and I've "thrown in the towel" on reclaiming it. Outdoor living now takes place just outside my office door.
I think better when it's quiet. With all of life's complications, it's been difficult for me to be intentional about the next few stories. Vague ideas don't get me started. Character bios do.
Who is the antagonist? What's he look like? What talents does he possess? What's his family history? What does he want that he cannot have? Does he have a vice? A secret wish?
Enter the protagonist. What's he look like? What are his talents and family history? Is there a tragedy in his life? Does he need to be reformed in some manner?
Once I know the main characters, it's easy to find a setting for them to meet and set them on the path to their future. Are all futures rosy? With some it is readily apparent it will be. Sometimes the characters need to be left accepting they're ready to love, nurture and cherish each other one day at a time just like real life. Sometimes trying to sell the total happily ever after is not true to who they are.
I can tell you this. After spending an hour on the deck with a few of the local songbirds, the next guy's story might involve his fondness for our feathered friends. Maybe he'll be a birdwatcher, or have a pet shop with birds. Maybe he'll have a parrot who helps him drink his Sunday morning coffee on his balcony. Maybe he'll like ancient birds - the dinosaurs!
Maybe I should get back to work before the world turns noisy. Character bios don't write themselves and the birds won't sing like this all day.
KC Kendricks
www.kckendricks.com
www.twitter.com/kckendricks
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