So there’s this book I’m writing, called Nerdgasm. I may have mentioned it once or twice. Anyway. Judy and Max are almost through the first round of revisions. Meaning I’ve gone through all but the last 3… 4? scenes and have transcribed them into a Google Doc, at which point, I let a buddy read them and make a couple comments, and then transcribe — again — into a Word document.
This seems to be working for me. Right now. I still need to post all these refreshed scenes/chapters to Scribophile for further critique from my pals there to really nail this thing down. But I’m SO CLOSE! I’ll still have this baby available in ebook and print on Black Friday.
When I can’t concentrate enough on Judy and Max, I have this other thing that popped up. I said, “I just want to get the idea down.”
Right. Uh-huh. At the moment, I’m calling it Cameo. But I hate the title.
Prompted by this gif (seriously, I could watch it all day), I’ve had the idea in my head for a while to have a well-known celebrity (made up, of course) who is acosted by a preschool-aged fan who takes off on Mom when she’s not looking so they can go meet the celeb.
Celeb then has to go find the panicking parent. And… there’s chemistry, and sparks fly, and in the end, they’re together.
Now… I love Tom Hiddleston, don’t get me wrong. But I didn’t want to base my actor on him. And when I started writing, it came out that the parent with a missing kid was actually a man. My brain defaults to het couples. But then the kid showed up, tugging on “Misser Low-kissed’s” shirt. Oh. Okay. I guess we’re writing gay romance this time. Cool beans. (My characters do their own thing.)
And then we got around to the bit where the kid is actually his niece. Okay, so why does he have his niece? He’s going to a business lunch… Oh, the sitter is out sick, and his other options are out of town. Okay, so why does he have custody of the kid? Oh… Mom & Dad are no longer with us. Which of the parents was his sibling? Mom? Okay — OH! She’s his twin sister? Oh crap. It was a Christmas morning home invasion gone horribly, horribly, horribly wrong. How long ago was that? Was that this past Christmas? Or the one before? This kid is only four. Scratch that — she’s three. Yes, this is pretty much my thought process. But then…
Okay, so those are my character inspirations for Oliver and Parker. Here’s Coby, without whom these two might not ever have found each other…