Why I’m glad I threw my back out… kinda...

So, this week I’m at Starbucks, my favorite writing haunt, working out a particularly sticky plot situation for the book I’m working on. And it’s not happening. No matter how I try to look at the situation (or how many lattes I down), it’s not working for me. It’s like the solution is on the tip of my brain, but just out of reach. I decide I need some inspiration. Shopping break.

I pack up the laptop and jump in the car, pointing it toward the mall. Only, as I race down the freeway (at perfectly legal speeds, if any CHP are reading this…) it happens. That amazing moment where suddenly the fog lifts, everything is clear, and the characters start chattering in your brain. (Yes, I realize this sounds a little crazy, but bear with me…) It’s as if I can see a movie playing in my head, only the scenes aren’t in order, they’re all over the place. As I bounce from scene to scene, snippets of dialogue are thrown out, plot points magically appear, the entire book is almost all laid out before me in a sequence of pictures. It is the single coolest thing in the entire world.

Only I’m speeding down the freeway and can’t do anything about it.

So, I pull off at the next exit, screech into the parking lot, cutting off a perfectly lovely woman as I steal her parking place (Sorry, lady, but this is an emergency! My characters are talking!) and pull out my laptop. I’ve got minimal charge left. But I’m so using it. I slide my seat back as far as it will go, scrunch my laptop up against the steering wheel and start typing, getting down as much of the movie in my head as I can before it fades away.

Twenty pages and half an hour later, I am on a high that I’ve only seen chocolate martini’s rival. The plot works, the dialogue rocks, the characters are suddenly clear as day. I love it when books write themselves. In celebration I decide I will get out of the car and go buy something pretty at the store whose parking lot I’ve jut crashed. I set my laptop down, open the door, unfold myself from the front seat…

…and cry out in pain.

Shoving my body into the twisted, cramped space, I’ve totally thrown my back out. Change of plans, no shopping. I can hardly move, let alone walk into a store. Instead, I use a sweater to prop behind my back and carefully drive myself home without moving my upper torso. Then collapse spread eagle on my bed. And call the chiropractor.

That was three days ago. I’m just now able to sit at my desk again. But, despite the pain pills, chiropractor bills, and countless hours laying flat on my back counting ceiling tiles… it was totally worth it. I love this new book!


~Trigger Happy Halliday