Yes, I know Camp NaNoWriMo has started, but it’s a little too early for an update because I don’t even know how it’s going yet, other than the fact that I’m probably going to be at least 2k behind by the time I get a day off (Tuesday). (Besides, I wrote and scheduled this in advance, while I was inspired. And before the madness of Camp started.)
So anyhow, I thought some of you might like to take a peek inside the mind of a writer and get an answer to a question that I (and a lot of other writers) hear a lot:
“Where do you get your ideas?”
(Mostly I’m answering this now because an unknown character rode in on a plot bunny a while ago and I can actually trace where he came from.)
Fist some background.
I’m a nurse, and every two years I have to renew my license.
And this just happens to be the year.
And this year, the out-of-touch-with-reality powers-that-be on the Pennsylvania State Nursing Board have decreed that in order to renew said license we all have to do a training course on child abuse.
All well and good, but I’m an LPN, and like probably most LPNs in the state I work with a geriatric population, not pediatric.
I was thinking about the ridiculousness of the requirement and trying to convince myself that it might be useful, seeing as I’m a mandated reporter. And that led me to thinking about a neighbor whose kids climb up on the roof of the house while she’d doing drugs. (Or so I’ve been told – I haven’t witnessed this.)
And that got me to thinking about the borough police car that was parked facing the wrong way and blocking a parking space on my street a few weeks ago. No one knew why it was there or where the officer went, but a neighbor said that the kids had been on the roof again so maybe someone called them about that.
That got me to thinking about the fact that in a small town, pretty much nothing ever happens and probably nothing will happen in this case, and that a lot of that has to do with the fact that town cops probably went to school with most of the people in town. (Or with their kids, older siblings, younger siblings… You get the idea.)
So I started thinking that there should be a law that you can’t be a police officer in the town or area that you grew up in, that you should have to relocate.
In comes the nameless character on a plot bunny.
He’s been assigned to another town as a member of their guard because the kingdom does have a rule like the above.
No, not as a guard – as the new captain of the town’s guard.
Because the current one isn’t doing his job.
It’s his first command. And he’s fresh from the capital city where he grew up, transferred to a small town where everyone knows everyone.
Can he win the respect of the men he’s supposed to command?
And can he protect the outcast members of the town while protecting his own secret?
And could he possibly give me a name?
No. Never mind. I don’t want his name. If he has a name I’ll have to start writing his story and I have enough works in progress.
More than enough.
But, oh, he’s interesting.
And his plot bunny is so pretty.