Evanne Lorraine
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March 10, 2011 | Uncategorized

I’m fairly certain Barbara Cartland, who dictated her endless stream of romantic best sellers from a fainting couch while togged out with false eyelashes, lacquered hair, and plenty of rouge, is to blame for the image of romance writers as pampered, glamorous divas.

No fainting couches at chez Lorraine, no dictating either. I blush to think of such thing. I need to the contact with keyboard and the faintly accusing blink of the cursors to keep me on task when my fingers slow or falter.

My best writing is done in a trance, frequently in my rather worn and decidedly unglamorous robe and slippers. The diva dog snoozing on the rug nearby and music playing softly in the background as I sip my morning coffee and open the manuscript to transcribe a few notes I made the night before.

An hour or two slips by unnoticed, the coffee grew cold, the dog wandered outside, and somehow hundreds of words were added to the WIP.

Two trances a day and I’m doing well. Three I’m really cookin’, but the neighbors are starting to whisper…. :unsure:

How’s your day going?

Posted by Evanne @ 4:00 am  

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