Man...sometimes things go interesting directions when I'm writing. And weird. More than once I've wondered if I'm certifiable...not just when I'm working on a story but when I'm dealing with the day job. It's like I think I know what's going on then find out I don't have a clue. And I wind up totally confused and feeling psychically misused at the end of the day.
But this confession scene in OT...it's either going to work or make readers throw the book across the room in anger. I honestly don't know. Hell, I may change it, again. Anything's possible...but I like how off-beat it's become. A confession that's not a confession...but is.
This is the sort of thing going on in my head. Not necessarily a South American model (Brazilian?) moving left then bouncing right and pointing at me in a slightly snarky way...and yet...
Damn...I think I know what they mean by scrambled eggs for brains.
(BTW, the guy's name is Gui Inacio, actor and model, and adorable.)
But this confession scene in OT...it's either going to work or make readers throw the book across the room in anger. I honestly don't know. Hell, I may change it, again. Anything's possible...but I like how off-beat it's become. A confession that's not a confession...but is.
Damn...I think I know what they mean by scrambled eggs for brains.
(BTW, the guy's name is Gui Inacio, actor and model, and adorable.)
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