First, I throw myself on the floor. This won’t work on its own, though. I have to bang my fists and feet and bawl like a two-year old who isn’t getting her way.
Second, I pick myself up and go to my desk. Where I whisk the velvet cover from my Magic Eight Ball and ask the oracle for a title. Invariably it reveals something utterly slick and clever like: Outlook not so good.
Undaunted by my previous failures, I unveil my Ouija board for step three. I ask the Mysterious Universe what my next book title will be. Painstakingly, it slides across the board from letter to letter revealing the words…No Clue.
What I’m left with is a task more daunting than writing the novel itself. When I’ve typed The End I go back to the start and write something unoriginal above my author name. Then I send the manuscript to my editor and drink to numb the pain.
~S.C. Dane is a paranormal romance novelist who actually loves digging deep into her stories and losing herself. She can’t send for help because she can’t tell anyone the title of the book she’s lost in. It’s on purpose.