Anywhere, But Somewhere

Location. Location. Location.

A sense of place is as important in fiction as it is in real estate. Why? Because story events never unfold in a void. They always happen in a place. A darkened room. A crowded beach. A craggy mountain top in Mordor. It can be anywhere, as long as it’s somewhere.

When I’m writing a new scene, I prefer to use a location I’ve been to personally whenever possible. It helps ground the characters in a physical space, and often gives me ideas for how they can interact with their environment.

Sometimes, this includes taking characters out to actual landmarks in my home town of Brisbane, where my recent novels are all set. In The Experiment, Patrick and Logan go to dinner at a restaurant in South Bank and then walk along the riverfront. In The Harder We Fall, Tristan and Sam drive up to the Mount Coot-tha lookout to see the view of the city and have dinner at the cafe up there.

Other times, I use places like templates and drop characters into them. In my new book, Toni lives in a tiny apartment in Kangaroo Point. It looks suspiciously like my niece’s old apartment in the same suburb. Toni and Ned also go an engagement party – in the same room where I attended an engagement party late last year.

But here’s the kicker. In Becoming Us, my trio of love interests (Gabi, Law, and Connor) attend the wedding of Gabi’s brother, Frank. The entire setting for all those chapters was lifted straight from my niece’s wedding a few years ago. The hotel lobby, the rooms, the chapel, the footpath through the grounds. Everything! If my niece hadn’t gotten married, I have no idea where Gabi and her boys would have ended up!

The setting for any particular scene has a lot to offer in terms of atmosphere and potential action. So, it’s important to choose each location with care. You know, when you’re not simply pilfering floor plans from other people’s homes and adjusting them to fit. As techniques go, there’s room in my writer’s toolbox for both.

Space to Write

I’ve always thought it would be cool to write in a coffee shop. With a big, spiral notebook and pen, or my trusty laptop. The motivating scent of caffeine would waft around me as I spent hours engrossed in the lives of my characters, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the staff and my fellow customers. It all sounds so idyllic. Like a scene from a movie. Which also means my hair would be shiny, my clothes chic, and the lighting softly filtered.

Enter reality. My husband and I spent a few hours in a coffee shop one morning a couple of years ago. We were waiting for some problem with our car to be fixed. Until it was, we were stuck. It also happened to be a work day and we both had tons to do. And so, a table at a nearby coffee shop ended up becoming our joint office for a while. My husband worked on his laptop on one side of the table. On the other side, my red pen and I went to town on draft pages of The Experiment.

This coffee shop was so esoterically trendy, and weirdly located, it could have made a millennial cry. The staff were friendly, the coffee delicious, and the banana bread fresh. It should have been a writer’s dream come true. Instead, it forced me to a sudden and awkward realisation: I hate taking up space in other people’s places of business.

In the three or so hours we were there, we collectively went through three coffees, two hot chocolates and four morning tea items – because it seemed rude to stay if we weren’t actively consuming something. I obsessively kept one eye on the other tables to make sure there was always at least one free for new customers. On our way out the door, we bought a kilo of coffee beans to thank the staff for having us for so long. They were kind and appreciative. They may also have thought we were a bit crazy. We pretended not to notice.

I’ve scribbled words in some weird and random locations over the years. Hospital cafeterias, in my car, standing in line outside the school hall, and – on the odd occasion – in a coffee shop. But I’ve decided I definitely do my best writing when I’m at home. On my couch, in my bed, at my desk. My hair is usually a mess, my clothes are more comfy than chic, and the lighting is filter-free. But the coffee is still good and my characters are all around me. These places are the perfect writing spaces for me.

Who Are All You People?

After I finished writing The Harder We Fall, I had thoughts of starting work on a new series of books. Known only as The Housemates Series, it will feature the stories of a bunch of blokes who are sharing a big ramshackle house in one of the older suburbs of Brisbane. I have heaps of ideas for it, including all the tropey goodness I want to explore. The series will have six books. I was pretty excited about getting to work on it.

But then, when it came time to sit down and start writing ‘the next book’ Toni with an I swooped in with one hand sticking straight up in the air. “What about me?” he cried, lifting a snarky eyebrow. “People have been asking about me, you know. And I can be fun, too. Have you seen my dimples?”

I quickly learned there is no saying no to Toni (his love interest, Ned, has been learning the same thing). With a quiet sigh, I put my Housemates notes aside and started working on Toni and Ned’s story.

All was well. Until Ned’s friend, Johnny, ambled in from the sidelines and started spouting off about his backstory and generally trying to take over every scene he appeared in. I just kind of stared at him sideways. “Dude, who the hell are you?” His grin said it all. “I’m your next­ book.” After some major eye rolling and vague muttering about entitlement issues, I asked Johnny to go stand in a corner and wait his turn. Some days he does as he’s asked, other days… not so much.

I am definitely going to write my Housemates series. I still play with ideas for it when I have the chance. But it’s going to have to come after Johnny’s book. Which will be written after Toni and Ned’s book. Which is the unplanned sequel to Patrick and Logan’s book.

Honestly, I have no idea where all these people come from. I’m just trying to keep up. My head is getting crowded.

Tools of the Trade

One of the great benefits of deciding to try your hand at writing is that the barriers to entry are practically non-existent. Your only requirements include something to write with and something to write on. You can get started in seconds with any old pen or pencil that happens to be lying about. Your paper needs only plentiful and blank.

Old, dodgy notebooks are even better than pretty, new ones. There’s less pressure to write ‘well’ in a dodgy notebook. For years now, I’ve been writing in the unused portions of my kids’ discarded school books. Does it feel weird to write hot and steamy romance in a notebook that’s covered in Lightning McQueen wrapping paper? Why yes, yes it does. But it’s cheap and it gets the job done.

The downside of writing on paper is that once your pen has touched down, and the words have spilled across the page, there’s no taking them back. You can’t hit undo. There’s no copy and paste. The only way to rearrange the words is with a pair of scissors and a whole lot of sticky tape. Oh, the inefficiency!

All of these issues can, of course, be solved by moving to a computer. This is certainly my go-to for editing and for those times when the words are coming faster than my hand can write. But the imagination doesn’t always avail itself to the clack, clack of a computer keyboard. Some words want to emerge quietly. Some words demand ink.

The solution to this (incredibly first-world) quandary arrived on my doorstep about a week ago in the form of the reMarkable 2 writing tablet. A gift from my wonderful husband, who I’m fairly sure was sick of watching me drool over the ads for it online. This baby is designed to feel like you’re writing on paper (it is a fairly decent facsimile). The words written with the stylus appear by way of e-ink (the same kind of ink used by kindles).

It’s worth a veritable truckload of cheap, spiral notebooks from the local newsagency, but… I adore it! It is every notebook I’ll ever need, all in one place. With the added bonus of undo, erase, copy, move and paste thrown in. I can convert my handwriting to text (also decent) and email it to myself for editing. And don’t even get me started on the calligraphy pen option. The wonders never cease!

Sometimes when it comes to technology, less is more. I certainly haven’t given pen and paper the flick entirely. But I am enjoying this new addition to my writing toolbox. With any luck it will even lead to me writing faster and publishing more often. That really would be a dream come true.

PS. How did I write this article I hear you ask? Okay, you probably weren’t asking, but I’ll tell you anyway. I wrote it on my reMarkable 2, of course.

Give Me All the Books!

As readers we all love to get our hands on as many books as possible. In the olden days (of not so long ago) that meant buying pretty much every book you wanted to read. These days, readers have something we as consumers all love: options.

We can buy: This is me. My pleasure reading time is limited so I don’t make it through enough books each month to make a subscription service worthwhile. Plus, there’s something about owning a big book collection makes me giddy (even if they are all electronic). I’m definitely a book buyer.

We can lend: This is my mum. As a voracious reader, she loves her Kindle Unlimited subscription and often tells me about whatever new series she’s been reading. For her, not owning the books she reads isn’t an issue, because when she finishes one book, there is always another waiting to be discovered.

We can wait for new episodes: With Amazon’s new Kindle Vella we can get books in a serialised format and wait for new ‘episodes’ to come out. I haven’t had a chance to check this format out yet, but would love to hear the verdict from anyone who has read books this way.

How do you like to get your hands on books? Are you a buyer or a lender? Do you enjoy a little of both? Or are you loving the new Vella format? I’d love to know more about you.

What’s in a Name?

I have all sorts of weird and wonderful stories when it comes to how my characters got their names. Jeremy (Everything We Need and All the Broken Pieces) walked into my head fully formed and introduced himself. In the early days of writing The Experiment, Logan yelled at Patrick to get his attention, giving me his name in the process. Sometimes, I lift names from whatever TV show I happen to be watching when I start writing. Sometimes the name reflects an aspect of the character’s personality. Honestly, character names can come from pretty much anywhere.

When I first started writing The Harder We Fall, I didn’t know much about the main character I was working with. I did know he struggled with guilt stemming from some event that happened in his past. And I knew he was incredibly sad. This sadness permeated everything about his life and the way he viewed the world. I could feel it like an ache in my gut whenever we spent time together. I quickly realised this was a man whose name needed to be chosen with care. Baby naming websites are fantastic for this. A few keyword searches later, I came upon the name Tristan. It means ‘full of sorrow’. It was perfect.

The name for Tristan’s love interest came to me a little differently. The one thing I knew about the character was that he had a compelling voice. This was the thing that would initially draw Tristan to him. In my head, Tristan kept referring to the man as his siren. I thought that it would be quirky to give the character a nickname, one that would embarrass the hell out of him. The words, “Siren Sam,” literally popped out of my mouth with the next breath. Then I had a quiet chuckle to myself. Sam had his name and I loved it.

Naming characters is always an interesting part of the creative process, but I do believe it’s important to get it right. After all, if you give a character the wrong name, they may not answer when you call.

Soundtrack: The Harder We Fall

Music is a huge part of my life. So, when I first picked up a pen and started to write, it was no surprise that the urge to create a soundtrack for each book followed close behind. I listen to my soundtracks constantly during the writing process. While driving, cleaning the house, cooking dinner, doing the grocery shopping. Any time I can put my playlist on and let the creative part of my brain get lost in the music.

Populating a new soundtrack can be fun, but it’s often frustrating. The songs need to reflect the themes and characters within the story, set the tone for writing sessions, and inspire new and interesting plot twists.

I got lucky when I began writing The Harder We Fall. One weekend, I set up my ironing board (ironing is a perfect soundtrack-building activity), put in my earbuds and started my Story Inspiration list on Spotify. Just to see what would pop up. I absolutely did not expect the first song that played to end up being the theme song for the whole book! But there it was, a song in which the performer sings to an unknown person in need of emotional support to get through a sleepless night. It was perfect for my chronic insomniac and the voice he becomes enthralled with!

Of course, not every song I add to a playlist stays there. At one stage, I decided to add My Immortal by Evanescence to my The Harder We Fall soundtrack. It’s a profoundly beautiful song about grieving the death of a loved one, and the struggle of wanting to hold on to that person but needing to let them go at the same time. I thought it would be a good song for my main character, Tristan, who was also struggling with grief.

Tristan objected. Strongly. There were lyrics in the song that did not fit the relationship he had with his lost loved one and he felt the song was a misrepresentation of his experience. When your main character starts growling ‘don’t tell me how I feel’ at you every time a certain song plays, you know it’s time to pay attention. The song lasted about a day and a half before it was removed.

The soundtrack for The Harder We Fall was a huge contributor to the mood of the book. But the subject matter was heavy, and I must admit I was relieved to leave it behind when the book was done. I know there will be days in the future when I’m moved to listen to it again, and as I listen it will take me back to that time when I was first writing the words. That’s when I’ll fall in love with Tristan and Sam’s story all over again.

Here it is, the soundtrack for The Harder We Fall

Song for Someone – Vertical Horizon (The theme song for The Harder We Fall)
I’ll Be Good – Jaymes Young (Tristan’s song before he meets Sam)
Unsteady – X Ambassadors (Tristan and his parents)
Ghost – Jacob Lee (Sam, meet Tristan)
Looking Too Closely – Fink
Find A Way – SafetySuit (Sam invites Tristan to stay the night)
Through Glass – Stone Sour
Beautiful Crime – Tamer (I’ve been wanting to put this song on a soundtrack for years. It never quite fit – until now)
Wildfire – SYML (“You’re not a curse. You’re not too much. You are needed here. You are enough.” Sam’s message for Tristan)
Collide – Sleeping Wolf (Tristan wishes he could turn back time and start again – but still end up with Sam)
Pieces – Andrew Belle
Lover, Please Stay – Nothing But Thieves (Sam’s song for Tristan)
Better – SYML (Tristan’s thank you for Sam)
Love Don’t Die – The Fray (The theme song for the end of the book, because I had a desperate need to finish on a high note)

I hope you enjoyed the soundtrack for The Harder We Fall. All my soundtracks can be found on the music streaming app, Spotify. Just do a search for my profile (rrainewriter) to check them out!

Hearing Voices

All stories, in my experience, begin with a spark of an idea. It can come from anywhere. An image, a line of dialogue, a problem in need of a solution. For The Harder We Fall, the spark came from one simple, but endlessly intriguing, question: What if?

It all began when I decided to start a meditation practice in an attempt to calm the voice inside my head. You know the voice. It’s the annoying one that prattles on incessantly. It narrates your day or replays old arguments or reminds you that you really should be writing right now, Rebecca! Ugh. I had to make it stop.

One trip to the Google Play Store later, I downloaded a free meditation app made right here in Australia and got started. My eyes were closed. My legs were folded. I sat up nice and straight with my hands palm up on my knees. And I listened.

The voice on the app introduced me to the benefits of meditation and how to go about it. It was a nice voice. Male. Slightly rough. Pleasant. I liked the voice. It was easy to listen to.

And then I wondered… What if there was a man who listened to a meditation app and became enthralled with the voice he heard? What if he was intoxicated by the voice? Seduced by it. And then, what if he had the chance to meet the man behind the voice? How would he react?

Before long, the questions began piling up and I was off on a hunt for the answers. Tristan’s journey took me to a lot of places I didn’t expect to go based off those initial questions. There was a lot of sadness, but also moments of laughter. Let’s just say, Tristan didn’t turn out to be thrilled by the way Sam was able to ‘manipulate’ him with his vocal cords.

I wish I could say my meditation practice is going strong and my voice is quieter than it used to be. I can’t. But the experience of giving it a shot did lead me to a story that became much deeper and more meaningful to me than I ever would have thought possible based on its spark. For that I’ll always be grateful.

Sometimes, I imagine that much of the clamour in my head comes from the voices of the characters who need their stories told. If so, Tristan would have been a pretty loud contributor. He was a man in desperate need of peace. With Sam’s help, he was finally able to find it. So perhaps, in some small way, my head is a little quieter now, after all.

The Experiment Background Scene – Young Patrick

When I was beginning my journey with Patrick and Logan for The Experiment I used a book called Story Genius to help me dig deeper into the backgrounds of the characters. This involved writing a few short scenes from their pasts that helped solidify their flawed worldviews. This month, I thought I’d share one of those background scenes with you. If you haven’t read The Experiment yet, this is NOT a spoiler. It’s more of a glimpse into the development of Patrick’s mindset, which he still has when the book opens.

Setting the Scene: This scene is set when Patrick is about thirteen years old. It’s entirely PG.
__________

PATRICK

I don’t miss Danny anymore.

It’s a stark realisation for an otherwise average Tuesday lunch. Honestly, the thought never would have occurred to me if I hadn’t seen him sitting a few metres away with his new friends. He looks relaxed, happy, as oblivious to my absence as I have been to his. Which is weird because we were practically inseparable for years.

Danny and I became best friends in Grade Four, when we realised we lived around the corner from each other. We’d spent whole summers visiting back and forth at each other’s houses, having sleep overs, hanging out. Once we’d spent a whole afternoon putting together a Star Wars Millennium Falcon Lego set. It had taken hours of work and the result was freaking awesome. The Falcon went into battle in Danny’s backyard, about an hour before sunset. We managed to destroy half a dozen Death Stars before the dog got hold of it and sprinted off. We’d laughed so hard we’d had trouble catching him to get it back.

This past summer had been different. My parents’ separation had left our family in chaos and he’d been off visiting his Dad in Sydney for the Christmas holidays. We’d been excited to see each other when school started again, but it didn’t take long to realise something was off. Danny, who was going by Dan now, had discovered rugby. He’d gone to a bunch of games with his dad and suddenly it seemed to be all he could talk about. Who made the best try last Friday night. Whether the right man was chosen for Man of the Match. Last year he hadn’t known the rules for the game but now suddenly he had strong opinions about the intelligence of the referee. Goddamn, it was boring.

It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy sport. I just didn’t understand his fascination with watching other people play sport. Where was the fun in that? I preferred to play video games on my Xbox. Games where I was the one winning or losing, where my skill level mattered. Danny was into some video games, but not like me. When I started talking about the awesome shot I’d made in Halo his eyes would glaze over until I stopped talking, then he’d change the subject—back to rugby.

Crunch time came the day of his fourteenth birthday party. I could remember how sweaty my palms were when I arrived. I’d been breathing so hard it was like I’d just sprinted the length of the school oval instead of walking the distance between Mum’s car and the front door. Six other guys were already there by the time I arrived. I knew them from school, but they were more Danny’s friends than mine.

“Patrick, hey!” Danny grinned as he jumped up from the couch to welcome me. “Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me.” I gave him his present. “Happy birthday, Danny… I mean, Dan.”

He ripped open the wrapping and suddenly I was nervous that he wouldn’t like his present. He would have loved it last year, but now, looking at the maroon jersey he wore and the merchandise piled on the coffee table, my present seemed like it was meant for someone else.

The excitement in his eyes dimmed as the Saturn V Rocket Lego set was revealed. “Wow, that’s great. Thanks.” The forced pleasure in his voice was a sucker punch to my gut. He turned away, so I couldn’t see the look he gave his new friends, but they didn’t bother trying to hide their sniggers.

“Good work, Patrick,” one of them drawled. “Maybe you can put that together for Dan while we watch the game this afternoon, right before you’re put down for your nap.”

“Brett, give it a rest,” Dan snapped, but he put the Lego box down beside an armchair instead of on the coffee table with the rest of the gifts. I had no idea what their problem was. It wasn’t a baby gift. The target age of 14+ was printed right there on the box.

Dropping into a chair, I resigned myself to spending the afternoon with a bunch of strangers who didn’t know a first-person shooter from a platform game.

My best friend had become one of those strangers. Because Dan wasn’t Danny anymore.

We stopped hanging out together at all after that party, but I don’t hold it against him. That’s the other thing I realise now, on top of the not missing him part. There’s no bad feelings there. He just changed.

There’s that word again. My mum stopped loving my dad because he changed. Danny stopped being my friend because he changed. I suppose Mum and I changed too, without really realising it.

It’s different for Danny and me though. We’re kids. We’re still figuring out who we are. It’s okay to change when you’re a kid.

By the time I’m old enough that losing people will start to matter more, I’ll know who I am. And so will everyone else.
__________

The hope you enjoyed reading this little peek into Patrick’s past!