Do Pictures Inspire My Writing?

No, not usually, except in the most general sense that looking at photos and art can be inspiring and nurturing to creativity. Earlier in my writing career, long before I was published (and before Pinterest), I used to cut out pages from magazines and take bits and pieces of pictorials to help me come up with ideas for futuristic clothing.  High fashion spreads were especially useful because they tended to feature really interesting garments, backgrounds and accessories. I also loved photos of jewelry, the more unusual the better. But I don't do that much anymore, as I've gotten better at visualizing details for my characters and settings while I'm in the flow of writing the science fiction romance novels. I won't say I'm never inspired by a specific photo these days, but it's rare.

There was one of actor Charlie Hunnam that was pretty darn inspiring…but I digress!

One of my novels, Mission to Mahjundar, did spring into my mind pretty much fully formed from two pictures I saw in the same general time frame, long before it ever reached final draft, much less was published. I don't have the rights to use the photos so I can't share them here (although I do have the tattered magazine pages in a file somewhere).

I saw a photo of a windswept, abandoned temple, standing alone on a plateau, somewhere in the Middle East. The image remained with me and I pondered – as one does – what adventure would bring people to this remote location and what would happen to them there. What would they be seeking? Would they find whatever they needed? This became the temple of the Ten Gods, where Shalira must go on her wedding journey, to seek a key to her mother’s long-closed tomb.  The key thing that put all the other elements together in my mind and set off the plot was a perfume ad in a magazine. The illustration was very dark in tone, with a woman in a purple-and-gold hooded cloak holding a beautiful crystal bottle that glowed golden. The light from the bottle illuminated her face. And I thought, that’s it! That’s Shalira inside the tomb. Then I needed to know who would be there with her…and my Sectors Special Forces soldier, Mike Varone, told me he would be, of course!

I was inspired to write a short story about ancient Egypt by a picture of statue of a handsome soldier that had clearly been one of a pair at some time. I thought about a lonely museum worker who might picture herself standing hand in hand with the warrior…and then I had to figure out how to make that happen. This photo below is not the one which inspired the story (Available in the Five Minute Love Stories anthology) but is from roughly the same era, and has a similar look.

Photo by the author

My upcoming May release, Lady of the Star Wind, has a subplot pretty much entirely inspired by an ancient mirror I once saw at a museum, although the Mirror of the Mother in my novel is very different.

When it comes to the ancient Egyptian paranormal novels I write, I do spend time looking through my large collection of books, tomb wall painting reproductions, 1800's prints and advertising cards, and other artifacts. 

Photo by the author

A Monster Character Who Took An Even Larger Role

As I understand it, this week’s topic is about characters getting away from us when we’re writing. Um, mine don’t do that. Sometimes a secondary character may become more important than I had originally expected, or readers will ask for one to be the subject of their own sequel.

I did have a monster who became even more of a monster. In Mission to Mahjundar, the characters end up as prisoners of a bloodthirsty civilization who worship a terrifying god known as Tlazomiccuhtli. No spoilers but in the original draft, there were some mild unpleasantries between a couple of the main characters and this god inside the temple, but he/it never actually materialized to threaten them. He allowed his priest/warriors to do all the evil deeds. Ah, but in the final version, as it turns out, there’s a very tense standoff between him and Shalira, the heroine:

Shalira felt a cold breeze on the back of her neck. Next moment she had the sensation someone whispered her name. She glanced at Mike, but he remained unconscious. Half turning, she scanned the cave stretching behind her, wondering if there was an exit. Not that they could leave, with the drone on its way to them, but neither did she want to be surprised by an attack from the rear.

Blinking, she realized her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her - there was a glow in the gloomy recesses of the cave. Rising to her feet, she crept cautiously toward the light. Behind her she heard Johnny say something but her ears were full of the whispering she’d heard before, in the chamber with the giant statue of  Tlazomiccuhtli. Goosebumps made her skin crawl as she came around the last rocky outcrop and confronted another effigy of the Nathlemeru deity. The voice in her head grew louder, and there was harsh, triumphant laughter.

Closing her eyes, the only defense she knew, she tried to back away but felt as if she was standing in glue. She caught her balance with an effort as she tripped over loose stones.

You are mine, little oracle. And I will have the heart of your warrior, as I was promised by Ishtananga before he died. And I’ll loose the cherindors in your family’s precious scepter on all who oppose me.

“No!” She screamed her protest out loud. Blinking, she stared at the statue, which was about eight feet tall, semidetached from the cave wall. The sculptor had made this representation of Tlazomiccuhtli somewhat less graphic than the one in the main temple in the plateau above but the effect remained horrific. She saw bleached human bones lying on the ground around the statue. Apparently the Nathlemeru conducted sacrifices here on occasion as well. Bad luck had drawn them into another place of its influence over humans. Voice trembling, she tried to deny the reality.  “You have no power over us.”

But I do. Your goddess owes me. And through his fears, one of your companions has given me mastery over him. Watch.

She heard Everett yelling and next moment Johnny came walking past her, blaster in his hand but aimed at the cave floor. His face was slack, as if he was asleep. He stumbled over the cave floor, dropping the outworld weapon. As he headed toward the statue, one hand fumbled with his belt knife. Horrified, unsure if Tlazomiccuhtli was going to try to make the soldier kill himself or her, or even Mike, helplessly comatose in the cave entry, Shalira grabbed the sergeant’s arm as he shuffled past.

“Johnny, you have to fight this off,” she hissed.

He stopped walking but the moment she moved her hand away, he lifted one foot to take the next step. Wondering where Everett was and why he didn’t come to investigate, she snagged the back of Johnny’s shirt and he paused again.

Red snakes of light had materialized from thin air and were writhing around the statue of  Tlazomiccuhtli, becoming more and more solid, developing eyes and mouths. She wished she could close her eyes again rather than look at them but was afraid of what might happen if she cowered like a child.

“My goddess owes you nothing, and neither do I,” she said. “You have no power over me.”

Wait until you’re in the grip of my servants, wait until I touch you myself and then tell me I have no power. Perhaps I’ll make you sacrifice your warrior to me yourself. How much you humans have forgotten in the millennia since the world began.

If you’d like to know what happens next, or what leads up to this moment, the SFR Galaxy Award Winning novel is available here:

Amazon     Barnes & Noble   iTunes     All Romance eBooks     KOBO     Google Play

The audiobook was just released this past week and here’s an audioclip, narrated by the wonderful Michael Riffle, although the scene is from earlier in the book, not from the Tlazomiccuhtli encounter:

Creating Conflict and Motivation

This week’s subject is how we create conflict and motivation for our characters. I must say I’m heartened to find I’m not the only pantster in the group after all!

In my latest science fiction romance Mission to Mahjundar, the heroine has been blind since an assassination attempt on her life as a child. That provided me with numerous conflicts for her, and motivations to cause her to make decisions that set the events of the novel in motion. Agreeing to the arranged marriage, for example, and demanding that the hero, Mike Varone be forced to accompany her as extra protection. (At that point in the story neither of them realizes they’re going to fall in love of course.)

In the novel, I’d explained the motivations for Mike and his cousin Johnny to accept the mission to Mahjundar in the first place but it wasn’t until I got deep into the book that a light dawned on me and I realized why exactly the two of them had been just about to retire from the Sectors Special Forces. (Being a person who “just writes” the book as it comes to me, these things do happen.)

In the time-honored tradition of show, not tell, here’s the scene between Shalira and Johnny where they find out how alike they really are. As the scene starts, Shalira and Johnny are escaping through an enemy temple at night, and hoping to find the room where Mike has been imprisoned. Johnny hasn’t been too keen on the romance between Shalira and Mike, nor of the complications which have ensued. Putting things mildly!

To avoid serious spoilers, I’m providing edited snippets of the scene, but you’ll get the general idea. Johnny is speaking as they’ve paused before a certain chamber in the temple which must be traversed.

 “I gotta warn you, there’s some pretty awful stuff in this room we have to cross ahead. Put your hand on my back and follow me.”

“I sensed the evil when the priest brought me though earlier,” she said. “I didn’t need to see it.”

Despite the urgency of their situation, he didn’t budge for a moment, swallowing hard. As if he was talking to himself, he said, “The worst part? That thing in there is carved a lot like a Mawreg would look. Not exactly, but close enough to make me think the sculptor had met one.”

Surprised to realize he was fighting himself about entering the sanctuary, she squeezed his hand. “Mike spoke to me of these aliens. They menace the Sectors, yes? Are they so terrible?”

“We liberated an experimentation camp once. I’ve seen the Mawreg and lived. Most humans don’t.” He rolled his shoulders and stood taller. As if giving orders to himself, he said, “All right. We’re moving now.”

Shalira got a grip on his shirt and copied his pace. The evil emanating from the room ahead was already taking her breath away. The sensations were much the same as when Ishtananga had led her past the statue, but now she was more nervous because she and Johnny were vulnerable, so much depending on their success in finding and rescuing Mike and Saium. She closed her eyes tight as they crossed the threshold, knowing she could make her way perfectly well without seeing the horror they were walking past.

She thought she heard a voice, whispering just below the threshold of her hearing, urging her to open her eyes and behold the glory of Tlazomiccuhtli. She let out a little gasp and bit her lip, fighting the effects of the mental assault. She realized Johnny was barely walking.

“What’s the matter?” she whispered.

There was no answer, and he stopped.

          “Johnny.” She shook his shoulder, horrified to find his hand was now at his side, blaster pointed at the floor. With her abnormally keen hearing, she was positive no one else had entered the room.

(SNIP – a very tense scene where Shalira eventually rescues them both from the uncanny thrall of the alien deity…and then this conversation)

                Once she knew she was out of the chamber, and the pull of the voices lessened, Shalira and Johnny leaned side-by-side on the wall for a moment. Sweat was pouring off the sergeant and his hands were shaking.

                “Are you all right?”

                Cradling his blaster as if to anchor himself in reality, he nodded, swallowing hard. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

                “I owe you more than one,” she answered. “Let there be no accounting between us.”

“The Mawreg held me prisoner briefly, initiated their interrogation, not long enough to do real damage. Mike and a squad of operators rescued me, took down the base.” He leaned his head back, closing his eyes. “It’s a hard thing to get over. I’ve had all the standard military treatment, but I still have nightmares sometimes, which is the real reason Mike and I are retiring. I can’t do the job any more. No one dreamed we’d come close to triggering a flashback on this backwater planet, begging your pardon.”

                “You appear to be doing all right to me,” Shalira said, choosing to ignore the less than flattering reference to Mahjundar.  “I know what it’s like to have screaming nightmares, to not be able to remember what was done to you but knowing it was bad. You don’t owe me any explanations, Sergeant. The important thing is to keep going, and I have a feeling we’re both accomplished at that.” She squeezed his arm.