One of the joys when crafting a novel is that no rule demands you to be tied to a desk – or at least not that I’m aware of. Whether writing while on the beach, at a cafe, enjoying a sunset drink, waiting at the airport, on a plane, or even on top of a mountain – I write.
I never cease to surprise Dawn, my co-author, with my gadding about and the source of my inspiration. I love to people-watch. I also love taking photographs. The two often offer an exciting combination, especially regarding creativity, plot and character development.
One morning, I was enjoying a coffee at a cafe in a typical Portuguese village in the Western Algarve, pondering on the nightclub scene where Sophia loses Aaron, and he is whisked off to the hospital by a guy called Itan.
I never had a minds-eye image of this guy until taking photographs of the view from a cafe in a small town in Southern Portugal. As I pointed my camera to photograph the church and square in the foreground, I heard a couple of guys laughing, and the next moment, an exuberant young man with blue hair jumped into my line of vision and posed. I clicked away and immediately thought – Itan! Perfect!
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