Writing.

This is one of those days when writing is a long, torturous process. When what you see in your head doesn't match what you've got on paper. When you wonder what the hell you're doing.

Of course, tweaking something until it's singing - singing, not just saying - exactly what you want, that's got to be one of the best things out there. When you're working your hardest for something and *ka-ching!* it all falls into place? Hell, yeah. Top of the world.

The first time I got that feeling was when I was in the midst of writing my first slash piece in my former fandom.

Hercules and Ares were engaged in one of their usual fights, Ares had gotten Hercules naked and had pinned him, face first, to a wall. He stood behind Hercules, taunting him, teasing him, turning him on.

At one point I wanted them to kiss. Well, I wanted Hercules to want to kiss Ares, but I didn't want Ares to let Herc turn around in order to do it properly. I couldn't make it graceful. It would be painful and awkward, and I just couldn't figure how to make it work (yes, I think about things like that).

Finally, after I don't know how long I spent picking this scene apart, it finally occured to me that Ares wouldn't give a whistle if Herc was comfortable or not. Believe it or not, that hit me like a sledgehammer between the eyes. Ares wouldn't care.

It was so friggin' simple! I solved my dilemma with one line of dialog from Ares. It was *such* an incredible feeling, going crazy over something and then seeing the answer so clearly and having it all fall into place so neatly. It's one of the things I love most about writing.

Here's how the scene played out:


Hercules tried to turn around.

"Nuh uh uh," Ares cautioned.

"I want to kiss you," Hercules said, his voice husky. "This is awkward, trying to kiss you over my shoulder. I'm turning around."

"No you're not. Do the best you can."

Still looking into Ares' eyes, Hercules caught his brother's full lower lip between his teeth, slid his tongue over it, and then closed his eyes as he languidly slipped his tongue back inside Ares' mouth for another deep, insistent kiss.


I remember dancing around the house, pleased as punch, whooping it up, explaining it all to my extremely understanding husband in great detail. Such a small thing, but so important to me. And every time a bit of writing falls into place like that for me, I love the process a little more.

I love to write, and that will never, ever change.