Of Catnip and Kryptonite

Go with your gut.

That’s the advice I got the other day, and it’s sound.  Gave me just enough courage to do exactly that.  But see, the thing is, I sometimes have a hard time trusting my gut.  At least when it comes to writing.  I over think things.  Second guess myself.  Spend useless hours contemplating some point, and trying to change it, just so it’s different.  Something unexpected.  And while the unexpected can definitely be a good thing in writing, sometimes it’s not.  Sometimes, all we want is for it to be how we expect.  Especially if the unexpected seems like it’s trying too hard.

And sometimes my gut tells me to write in a way that I’m not completely comfortable with.  And that makes me second guess myself as well.  Because there’s a certain way I write, and a certain kind of character I’m comfortable getting into his headspace so he can tell the story.  To step outside of that, to write from a different kind of perspective, is a little scary.  Because what if I can’t do it as well as I do the other thing?  What if it doesn’t work out like I thought?

Go with my gut, indeed.

There’s a type of male character that I’m drawn to.  No use in denying it.  I like the big, alpha male who is grumpy and stoic and cranky on the outside, and has the soft, gooey, caring center.  Someone who can be, on occasion, just this side of complete asshole but who shows his deep caring and mushy middle at the perfect moment.  That kind of guy is my Kryptonite and my catnip.  I’m always going to be drawn to that kind of character, and that guy is always going to be my greatest weakness.

I’ve hinted at it before.  Jack is kind of like that.  So is Alex.  They both have their moments of grumpy and cranky.  They both have melty centers when it comes to their men.  But neither character is full-on in that regard.  To write someone who is pure alpha male, testosterone incarnate, who has stoic down to an art and for whom control is paramount, that is daunting.  That’s not me in any way, shape, or form.  To write that guy, and write from his POV, is a little bit scary because I worry about not getting it right.

But if I’m going with my gut, he’s the guy to tell the story.  He’s the one whose head we need to be in.  So as I begin plotting the second book in the trilogy, he’s the guy I have to trust to help me tell the story.  He’s the kind of guy that won’t let me down either.  As long as I can trust him.  Trust myself.  Trust my gut.

He is my catnip and my Kryptonite, and if can just let go of the worries, I’m going to fall in love with him.