What comes first, might be the last thing you write

Well as sad as it is, today is the last day of my tour here at Kayden's. But I'm sure she'll have me here again at some point or another. So, thank you Kayden for having me here at your blog. Hope I didn't leave too many things out of place.

The past two days I spoke of my last two horror releases at Moongypsy Press. But, as some of you know, there is a heart somewhere inside me (laughs) and it does get a chance to show itself. My latest release with Moongypsy Press, Ghosts of the Storm, is one of those stories where my muse and heart worked together, weaving a tale of love, loss and yes, some paranormal.

In some of my previous blogs I spoke of my muse messing with me in hot tubs and how some of my personal life had played an important role in creating Ghosts of the Storm. Small things like placing the setting just outside of my father's property he used to own in McDavid, the Piggly Wiggly that I called the County Pig, and the rabbit farm just a short distance from my dad's house. Oh and let's not forget that there really was (I haven't been to McDavid in years) only two to three gas stations on that long stretch of road.

But today I wanted to talk about another part of the story that I found to be fun and exciting. The finish line.

Once Bobby started telling me the his version of Ghosts of the Storm, I immediately began pecking at the keys. But one thing caught my eye from the begging of the story. Here, let me show you:

Now, if you met Joe on any given day, you'd have thought the sun shined out his asshole or something of the like. He smiled like he was the only man in on some joke on the world and never, and I mean never, gave you a cross look, even if you ran over his dog. I know. I did that one day and felt like shit for it. Anyone does something like that to Joe would bend over backwards to make it right, just 'cause Joe never did any harm. His wife on the other hand… well, we'll get to her soon enough. Right now, we're still talking about Joe sitting at the end of his driveway during the night of the storm.

"You'd have thought the sun shined out his asshole," still makes me laugh each time I read it. And I'd like to venture that we all know people like that. I'm sure some of us at times wish we were that person who seems to be perpetually happy no matter what. Well except for Joe, who the readers find out really isn't as happy has he's always made them to believe.

Well, I knew early on that this story would be a tragedy and that I wanted the readers to feel their hearts ache for my characters. Even a little for Bobby, my narrator. But that damn phrase kept sticking out in my mind. How can you make someone's heart ache with a visual of sun blasting out someone's backside? But it was simple. I just made the sun shine out someone else's ass! Crazy how that works, but if you read Ghosts of the Storm, you'll see what I mean.

So without any delay, I wrote the last paragraph of my story and I'd be damned if it didn't serve as my guide all the way through writing it. Each time I felt unsure about where I was going, or if I'd be able to finish, I'd read that paragraph and feel my heart ache for Bobby. Next thing I'd find is me typing hundreds of words again. As always, it's Bobby's story and without him I don't think it would have been nearly as interesting.

So dear readers, there you have it. I started my story at the finish line and then caught up to myself in the end. And speaking of finish lines, we have reached ours here both in this entry and at Kayden's for this tour. I do hope you all enjoyed what I had to say and hope to see you all soon, both here and at all the other places I've been stopping.

Take care in all you do,
Trent Kinsey

http://www.trentkinsey.com/

http://www.moongypsypress.com/kinsey.php

http://www.trentkinsey.com/books/ghosts/ghosts.php