I'm about 20,000 words in on book two of my Toxic series. Sounds like it's going well, right? It is, but I'm also fighting distraction. Driving home from work on Friday I saw a cheesy van with a logo printed on the back window--ColoradoSpringsGhostHunters.com, or some such thing--and it got me thinking. What would happen if a kid had parents that were scam-artist ghost hunters, but the kid could actually see ghosts?
Enter Jeremy Roswell, fifteen year old home-schooled son of modern day gypsies, con artists that have everyone believing they're the real deal. Jeremy is a little socially inept--wouldn't you be if you were dragged around to conventions and seances your whole childhood?--but he's a pretty grounded kid. He knows the deal with his folks, and he has a pretty good laugh at their cluelessness when there are actual spirits nearby.
So, yeah. Distraction. Jeremy's story isn't totally clear yet, at least. He's still just more of a character in my head trying to get my attention. I'll keep on with book two of Toxic, and let him become a little more solid in my head while he waits. Tempting, though, to just start writing and see what happens to him.
What's playing: "Rehab," by Amy Winehouse.
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