My Life has Been Abducted by a Man-Whore

My writing life, that is.

It all started so innocently. I woke up yesterday morning realizing I needed to brainstorm some new ideas.  I’ve done a lot of work this week as far as giving existing stories touch-ups. But if I don’t also have something new at least brewing and testing out ingredients in my brain, I start to get a little twitchy.

So I’m thinking and thinking, probably squinching my face the way a constipated kid will do when he’s sitting on the toilet. Because I’ve got nothin’.

I wander around the house. Sometimes a little motion gets the creative sparks to ignite. Hell, sometimes even CLEANING gets them to ignite. The creative sparks are strange beings, aren’t they? Still nothing.

I glance at the TV. There’s some comedy movie on, maybe something Lee was watching before he went outside to tackle some yard project. There’s a naked man strolling across a yard. His bare butt is staring at me. It has dimples.

Suddenly, things start moving around in that big and sometimes empty room in my head. Do you play Scrabble? If you do, then you know how it feels to stare at the same tiles for what seems an endless time, willing yourself to see the moneymaker word. You’ve just about given up and decided to go with “dog,” when all of the sudden it happens. Your eyes shuffle the letters around and there’s your 7-letter home run. Not only that, but it is going to fit perfectly over a triple word score tile.

That’s what happened in my brain yesterday. Once again, several little snippets of this and that whirled around and then sort of just rushed at each other like a magnet.

They became Man-Whore and Jill.

I won’t say much about shifting and changing storyline yet, other than that Man-Whore gets whacked early on, and the list of possible suspects is endless. Jill, who has a whole host of her own problems, finds herself dealing with his restless, naked spirit. Unfortunately for her, she’s the only one who can see it.

Yes, Man-Whore will have a name too. I’m just still figuring it out. Names are so critical.

At first, I saw this as another short story. But when I sat down to start playing with it, something else happened. It took me about an hour to realize that Man-Whore isn’t a short story at all. Man-Whore will not let himself be small. He’s rising to the novel occasion.

I have to admit that this experience discombobulated me. There I was trying to work Man-Whore and Jill into some neat little plot that would fit nicely in a 3-5,000 box, and they just kept GROWING. For a while, I tackled this phenomenon like I was pulling weeds from a garden. Finally, I sat back and looked at the page of notes and ideas in front of me.

“You freakin’ moron,” I told myself. “Those aren’t weeds. Those are flowers. This thing is no potted plant. Its a damn garden. Grow it.”

So for the first time in years, I am staring down a brand new book-length work idea. I am exhilarated,  and obsessed, and terrified.

Why this idea? Of all the things running through my head, what made this one click? For starters, I think it was time for me to shift gears a bit. I have been dabbling in creepy horror tales since I recommitted myself to writing. I’ve loved every minute of it. But I’ve neglected another whole side of me and my writing – the funny side. Humor, often of the South Parkish or The Hangover variety, has always been my thing. I’ve been stuffing my inner adolescent who loves potty humor in the corner and punishing it for not being serious enough. It is time to get back to what I’ve always known and loved, incorporating what I’ve learned while wandering down the creepy-crawly path this last year.

That’s what this is. A blend. A guy who couldn’t keep his tallywacker down getting offed by any number of jilted women or pissed off boyfriends or husbands and then becoming a ghost? That’s the creepy part. His spirit haunting a once dream-filled but now bitter and borderline man-hating gal who just left an abusive relationship, and neither of them understanding why SHE’S the one stuck dealing with his naked, invisible-to-everyone-else ass? That’s the funny part.

Now, they’ve just gotta figure out why they’re stuck together. And who killed him. And how to deal with her abusive ex who has just figured out where she lives now. And how he’s supposed to help the girlfriend he cheated on a gazillion times pick up the pieces and get on with her life. And how, while all this is happening, Jill can act normal enough that no one puts her in the funny farm, which is hard to do when everywhere you go a naked Man-Whore ghost that no one else can see tags along and gives you a running commentary.

See how this thing quickly became book-length?

I’m so stoked I’m not even getting all dead inside because its Monday. Now THAT’S a promising sign.

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About hawleywood40

Writer, Steelers Fan in Baltimore, Frequent Visitor to the Shot Fairy
This entry was posted in Creativity, Fiction, humor, The Naked Man-Whore Chronicles, Writing, Writing A Novel and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to My Life has Been Abducted by a Man-Whore

  1. Katy says:

    Sounds great! Creative sparks are definitely strange beings!

    • hawleywood40 says:

      Thanks Katy! I’m really psyched – some of those creative sparks are fun, but really just little fizzles, and this one is feeling more like a firework : ).

  2. The Hook says:

    Hilarious! Bad tv gets stuck in your head like a bad song, right?

  3. Man-whore, very catchy. Has unlimited angles and potentials. Can’t wait of what happens next. I glad that it’s going the right directions for you. great post.

  4. akamonsoon says:

    Wow! After reading that I want to read more, MORE! 🙂 That sounds so interesting. I hope we’ll get to read it at some point.

    • hawleywood40 says:

      Thanks Monsoon! I’ve made a ton of notes and have actually written most of the first chapter – I’m really psyched! I’ll post periodic updates here and am beginning the overwhelming process of researching self-publishing, so who knows …

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