Location, Location, Location (Lynn Kerstan)

Yes, that’s me, striking a pose at Machu Picchu. More than a few years ago, I’m afraid, and well before I decided to try my hand at writing novels.

But as all writers know, everything we have ever experienced might someday find its way into a story. Even Inca ruins in Peru, although I hadn’t been expecting them to show up. Until now, all my books have been set in early 19th-Century England, with infrequent side trips to France, Spain, and India. I was really comfortable there. Maybe a little too comfortable.

Historical romance can’t be my playground any longer. . . at least for a while. I’ve changed course–or got blown off course–and while the journey is fearsome, the whole world is suddenly open to me. My imagination, after a bit of sputtering, has gone on fire with ideas.

Most of them suck, I am sure. But this is not the time for the dreaded Internal Editor to wield her whip. For now, the story sparking in my head has got free rein. The characters are having their way with me. I can’t wait to find out where they are going, or what will happen when they get there.

As it happens, Katia (heroine) and the currently nameless hero (see my 25 August blog) have decided to start their journey at Machu Picchu. She’s a gal on the run from a powerful enemy, trying to build a new life for herself. He’s an outlaw from a distant star system. Letting them meet in the produce section at Costco just didn’t feel right.

Besides, I’d roamed those Inca ruins. I knew the landscape, the history, the spiritual associations, the feel of the place. And what better location for a gorgeous male alien to land nekkid on the earth than atop the Intihuatana, the mystical stone known to the Inca as the Leash of the Sun?

Just one leetle problem. Times have changed.

The scene I was envisioning could easily have taken place back when I was at Machu Picchu. But now . . . not so much. With the decline of civil strife in Peru, tourist haunts are inevitably crowded. The government has instituted regulations designed to preserve the site. And rightly so. In 2000, during the filming of a beer commercial (!), the precious Intihuatana stone was damaged. Even the quirky back-packer hotel on the plateau is now a remodeled (and pricey) property managed by Orient Express. How could I possibly bring Katia and No-Name together, alone, in the locked and guarded Machu Picchu Sanctuary?

Give it up, dearie. I began having second thoughts about a Costco first-meet.

And then I remembered. I’m not writing an historically accurate Regency-era novel. This book is Paranormal Romantic Suspense. Otherworldly forces are in play. Which is, duh, the reason I locked onto Machu Picchu in the first place. Anything is possible.

Oh, yeah. I loves me some otherwordly forces. I’m freeeee!

Then again, this story is rooted in contemporary reality. Ooops. Not free. I’m walking a tightrope, balancing the believable with the incredible. My academic self has gone to war with the kid who started reading science fiction and fantasy about the time she was gulping down the adventures of the Bobbsey Twins.

Never mind. I could find excuses to put off the actual writing of this story until the moon is colonized. The problem with every single book and novella always comes down to the same thing for me. In my imagination, the scenes are fluid and vivid and exciting. But translating the images into words always feels impossible.

And to a great extent, it is. But when I love a story, as I do this one, I’ll give it everything I have.

After a lot of research and many beachwalks spent fiddling with ideas, I think I've found a way to do what I want to do. Meantime, whenever I’m not satisfied with the results (which is always) and start thinking about another, maybe better, story, I’ll keep in mind what a fellow author once remarked after reading over the galleys of her latest book.

"This is good!" she said. "I wonder who wrote it."

Those words never fail to give me hope.