It is so fun to brainstorm story ideas with my husband. Especially when he’s awake. Took me a few years to figure out that the best time to catch him is early in the day, when he is sitting upright. Because once he’s horizontal, I can pretty much guarantee that if I’m pitching the Wizard of Oz to him, he’ll be snoring long before I get to the tornado.
The car is good. If he’s driving, he’s upright. Usually not snoring.
Today, we had a three-hour commute home from our place at the beach. I needed to come up with some names for my characters and so I told him he could name some of them. He likes to do that. He named a character for me one time that landed an eighteen book deal. Seriously. So now, he fancies he’s got some kind of “knack”.
“Who am I naming?” he asks. I can tell he’s feeling helpful.
“I’m thinking about a young guy who is a body builder/personal trainer. Kind of arrogant.”
“Sort of a jarhead?”
He mulls. “Got it. Timmy…Tenderloin.”
“Timmy? Tender…loin? I’m not writing for the porno channel. Do you ever want me to work again?”
He’s screaming with laughter at the windshield.
I’m beginning to worry as he is swerving. “Forget Timmy Tenderloin. Let’s move on. I need a middle-aged woman. Owns a Jamba Juice shop. I’ve got to kill her off.”
“Salt of the earth.”
“Got it. I’m thinking…Mae. Yeah. Mae. Born in May. Dies in May, right? Last name…Bury. A little foreshadowing there, huh?”
“You want me to name the Jamba Juice lady Mayberry?”
More riotous laughter. “Next?”
“I need a Chinese guy to run the restaurant.”
After we’d established that the Chinese dude was second generation American, the hubby has it. “Okay. His name is Miyagi Waxoff. And his kids are Ashley and Tyler and…they’re ice-dancers.”
More howling. I’m staring at him. And thinkin’ he’s lost the knack. Then again…I might be able to do something with the ice-dancers.