It all started with a knife…

Yes, you’re reading that correctly. You’re eyes haven’t deceived you.

A couple of nights ago, I was awake all night long. My back issues kept me up and I was unable to sleep. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get comfortable. My sleeping medicine, kicked in but wasn’t working because I couldn’t stay in the same spot long enough to actually fall asleep. Ugh, it’s the worst. Anyway…

I have this list of names to someday use for characters. Along with a head full of ideas. During one of my comfy 10 minute spots, I was glancing through the list of names when  a knife entered my thoughts. (Oh the thoughts we authors have!) All I saw in my head was a huge knife dripping with blood. Suddenly one of the names clicked, Rhys. As soon as the name entered my brain I knew this story had to be told. Knowing that I wouldn’t be able to be comfy writing on the laptop, I opened up a new note in my trusty notes app again and started plotting out the scene unfolding in my head.

200 words.

That’s what I had written about that knife and a man named Rhys. It was barely nothing more than a few bare bones sentences but his story has now turned into a fully blown mystery in my brain. Which makes me a little sad. Why? Because I have been writing Tenley’s story for awhile. Her story is almost halfway done. She’s not talking right now though. Rhys is. That knife is begging me to tell whose blood is dripping from it. Rhys wants me to let you know if he’s a killer.

In the words of the wise Dean Winchester… “SON OF A BITCH!”

I didn’t plan this story.

At least not yet.

Oh well sometimes the best things in life are the things that are unplanned.

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