Yes, I’m struggling as I edit this story, the one that needs more romance. I sit here at the laptop and gaze at the words on the page and wonder if I’m trying to do something I shouldn’t be doing. So then I go out in the garden and hope a butterfly will slow down long enough for me to take a good picture. Or I go shopping and – gosh, where has the morning gone and I don’t feel like it any more.
Sit down, concentrate, this has to happen. Why is it so hard? Get into her head. She’s smitten but she’s wary. Get into his head. He’s besotted but he can’t. She’s not the right one. She can’t be the right one. How does that feel? Hot, sweaty, horny, uncomfortable. And her? Tight nipples, wetness, heat, all tingly, all aware of scents.
Write more words.
Can I do this? Should I do this?
Yes, I should and yes, I can. Remember when I had to add a lot more romance to ‘The Iron Admiral’? It was hard, as hard as this. Maybe not quite so hard because I wasn’t writing a romance. Not really. Was I? But I rewrote and rewrote and I must have got it fairly right because people said things like “Chaka Saahran is one sexy dude: a military man (imagine him in uniform) fully capable of killing when necessary, commanding an enormous battleship, and presiding over thousands of soldiers, while behind the scenes arranging for a bolt of exquisite green material shot with details of gold to be crafted into a magical dress for the woman he loves. Made me sigh more than once.”
Okay, that worked. I know I can I know I can I know I can… A caterpillar turns into a butterfly.
But even so, I’m open to suggestions. Anyone?