A few months, I guess almost a year ago, I wrote a short little ficlet for a blog about a janitor meeting a dance studio owner as he did his job, and the two of them giving in to a mutual attraction. It was a fun little story about a guy, his birthday, and a dance. Sweet. Simple. Done.
Except the characters wouldn't leave me alone, and so I revisit them and realized the two guys were a lot more complex and had a greater story to tell me. I listened. I wrote. My publisher liked, and a story was born, contracted, and is now in edits. Boo-yah!
I asked a friend, who knows about dance, to beta read the story for me to make sure I wasn't embarrassing myself. She gave me some wonderful advice, and at the end of her long-assed (and very useful) email, she offered a small, throw away comment about one of the secondary characters.
I ignored the comment.
For about...sixty-nine seconds. Then realized the character had enough page time to intrigue here because he also intrigued me. He infiltrated my thoughts in that grey hour between awake and asleep, and Bam!
A series was Born.
And that's how it happens, folks. A small, inconsequential comment from a friend. Idea implanted. Second Story begun.
A dare from Hubs that I can't use the phrase "this thing has the aerodynamics of a toaster" in a story (FYI: See Moving Day) Challenge accepted. Challenge met.
Or Mary Calmes throwing a photo up on Facebook and Jambrea Gaff goading me:
Damn you, Mary Calmes! You single-handedly keep my list of things to write growing, and Jambrea, we will chat about this poking and goading thing you do that stirs up the plot bunnies to a frenzie to nibble on these idea Mary seeds. It isn't healthy for the poor bunnies and needs to stop...
This blog post dedicated to all my dear friends who keep my spirit uplifted and my desire to keep writing from flagging. I heart you all.