Growing inspiration

I love the world we live in. I'm incredibly lucky to live in New Zealand, and particularly in the tree filled enclave where we've settled. Winter is settling in over here and rather than the bush, beaches and hammering surf New Zealand is famous for, our skies are full of broiling grey. Yet I'm writing a series set in some of the world's hottest beach spots and all of them include getting into the water. Some days I look out the window and wonder whether I'll be able to pull the warm out of my head and make it feel real on the page. And that I guess is when I let nature really do that thing she does best. Inspire. The way the trees bend in the rain suddenly becomes the graceful arc of tropical palms, heavy with coconuts and rich with sun. The sodden dirt in my vege patch becomes sand, churned by hundred of feet as surfers and media make their way to the break. And the grey sky? Okay, sometimes it's hard to feel inspired by that, but if I let go of my disappointment that the sun has chosen to have a sleep in, I can pretend that it's a storm front, churning with wave-creating energy. It's all connected somehow. Two sides of a coin, trees bending under rain while their sisters soak up that moisture and reach their branches up and into the growth the sun provides. Sorry if that sounds a bit much, I must be channelling lady Gaia today ;-)
Anyway, if all else fails, I can just write my characters hunkered down with mulled wine, weathering out the storm, nothing like huddling with your honey in front of a fire.
Thanks world, you're a constant source of inspiration.
What about you? Does nature spark your creative energy or does the rain just dampen your spirits?
X Michele

The mojo thief

This is what she looks like isn't it? Warts, curled talons, a hump, red soul-stealing eyes? I haven't pondered the looks of the mojo thief before, but with the progress of this latest book I wonder if she has come a calling. It doesn't help of course that the sun has been sneaking in through my office doors and beckoning me outside. Or that Mr. One and a half has become more insistent when he physically pushes me away from the keyboard (smart little monkey). It's not even that I don't want to be immersed in this book. I love my characters. They genuinely crack me up when I get down to pulling their dialogue out. In fact, when I banish Miss Anti-Mojo into the naughty corner, the words don't have much trouble tumbling out onto the page.
Happily the contract for this one allows me plenty of time to make sure that when I do turn up to the page, the words that come out are good ones, not fiercely whispered "just get on with it" verbs and adjectives destined for the edit cut pile.
I'm not sure I've solved my mojo issue. But sometimes just admitting you have a problem helps resolve it ;-) doesn't it? Although that doesn't seem to have helped with my chocolate addiction.
At least the novel is still coming. I finished the central chapter today, you know, that one where the characters finally catch a glimmer of their love for one another as it runs, like a scared hair, through their minds. Of course my hero hasn't quite got that love rabbit by the short and curlies yet. He's got a ways to go before he realizes that the glimpse is what he's been looking for a long time.
So, my mojo thief put into her corner for the day, I'm going to go crack chapter eight now. Phew. I feel better already.
And what about you? Any tips on breaking your writers block? Do you like to spill your woes and clear your mind with a good vent? Or do you let your mojo thief fester until she fair explodes under the weight of all those warts ;-)
Thanks for stopping by, happy reading.
x Michele

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