1: The human body can exist off of little sleep. I caught an excess of thirty minutes’ sleep (yes, thirty minutes, the sluggard) before I had to leave for my flight to the Wild, Wild West. But, guys, I got to watch the sun rise while I was in the sky. Worth everything.
Also, people are fascinating to watch in the early morning. They stagger like barely animated teddy bears until they finally reach coffee.
[OK, OK. I plead guilty to obsessive people-watching.]
2: Renaissance Festivals are not historically accurate. Beautiful gowns. Fascinating Celtic bands. Elephants and jousts and a king and queen and dungeons and all that grimy glamor. As we wandered through the festival, I thought my mind would explode with story possibilities.
But. . . .
“Why are Colonial-era pirates here? Isn’t this supposed to be the Renaissance?”
“Well, the guy wearing the crow head isn’t exactly historically accurate either.”
So. There’s that.
I have much to learn about pseudo history.
3: Apparently I’m behind the times. After a free-writing session in the park, I realized I had somehow managed to smear ink all over my knees. I was then was forced to walk home with ink-stained legs of humiliation.
I’ve been having a lot of ink mishaps lately.
[I’m afraid to see what will happen next. Will I start bleeding ink?]
After consulting with trusted writers, I was informed that, even though I was born 2,000 years too late, things would get better if I stopped writing with quill and ink.
That’s like asking me not to breathe.
Possible, but only if I want to die.
4: Reading in public offers great opportunities to eavesdrop. To the common observer’s eye: my head’s down, my book’s open, I look so innocent.
Inside my crafty mind: What if I really was a killer? Sitting here in the parking pretending to read? How would they stop me when they don’t even notice me?
Not exactly thoughts you want to share with those innocent passersby, BUT. . . story ideas.
On a related note: don’t trust people reading in parks.
5: People are the same no matter where you go. I’m from the South, so I expect friendliness, y’all. Smiles, waves, greetings when we pass. Everything that would be lacking in the Wild West. (I had read the books. I knew the West was a dangerous place.) I steeled myself to face rudeness and suspicious looks.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered the people of the Wild West are —gasp— friendly.
My Southern belle mind is spinning.
6: Things happen if you’re willing to face adventure. My characters are heroes. They face villains and danger and intrigue, and somehow live through it.
I’m a coward.
Going West has forced me to face my fears and dare to step into adventure. New people, new places, new stories to tell.
The world is an amazing place.
Don’t let life get so busy you don’t have time for adventure.
Have a travel story? I would love to hear it!
Coming Next Week: Interview with Author Kyle Robert Shultz