It’s a great pity that my spouse can’t write. There are many reasons for this.
1. He’s going to retire in 2 years, so he could get started making us millionaires 4-11 years sooner than I can.
2. He likes projects.
3. He’s an uber plotting plotting spouse.
Bryon and I have been game masters of a variety of role playing games for a very long time. Like we’re talking the 80s. Both of us are story oriented gms. I tend to go for emotional gut wrenching and intrigue. He is the master of surprise. He’s had a lot of practice story telling.
Sometimes when all it feels like I’m doing in a story is emotional gut wrenching and there’s no, I don’t know, PLOT, I’ll talk to Bryon. Two weekends ago, I took him to a coffee shop where we both didn’t drink coffee (behold! the parameters of my new reflux life!) and he helped me figure out pretty much the main conflict of the current book, and how to tie what seemed like a disparate element in beautifully to the rest of the story.
Okay, okay, faithful readers. There are 4 tent pole scenes that are no longer Carlo’s. But you’ll appreciate the structure when I’ve done it. Honest.
I was like, wow. How did you do that? And he was like, that wasn’t hard. And I was like, hey, why don’t you write books? And he was like because I can’t put words together. I can only come up with ideas.
And I thought yeah, but that doesn’t stop a lot of people. But he’s just not very interested in writing. He’d rather be putting together a massive Day of the Dead display for next year’s Halloween. That’s how we roll.
Don’t worry. I already have purchased him a surprise of suitable appreciation.
Books coming along well, by the way, just in case you thought I’d abandoned writing for podcasting, which I absolutely have not. Although I loves me some podcasting.