A few weeks ago, I started my day the same way I always do. Stumble out of bed, make coffee while attempting to interpret the notes I scribbled down before falling asleep the night before (depending on how drowsy I was it’ll look either like a drunken chicken dance or an LSD spiderweb). Take coffee outside to the section of sidewalk I call my porch and drink deep of the nectar of life until I feel semi-human. Repeat as necessary.
One of my favorite approaches to a story is to look at it and ask how I can deepen the conflict, or up the stakes, or throw a curveball into the mix. Cade is a wild sort of fellow. No filters, no inhibitions, no excuses--but on the other hand, he's tenacious when he gets an idea into his head, and it often gets him into serious trouble. He knows he's flawed. He doesn't know he has virtues, too. He needs someone who'll be his equal, but who can also appreciate his approach to life. That man is Dennis, who takes no nonsense and is aware of his own quirks, but has a somewhat more balanced viewpoint. Being blind has nothing to do with how clearly he can see the world.
It’s four a.m., Willa. Do you know where your characters are?
(This is how I entertain myself before the first cup of coffee kicks in.)
Sometimes, those who haven’t gotten to know him well yet would likely put money on Cade being the kind of guy who’s curled up under the blankets like a pillbug with lockjaw in all four limbs. Not coming out before daylight at the earliest. Nope. And if anyone wants to wake him up, they’d better come prepared with a mug in one hand and a Pop-Tart in the other. Now that he’s found his soulmate, that’s a job best left to Dennis.