A good day in real life is a bad chapter in fiction. A pleasant meal, a satisfactory day at work, and a relaxing evening at home all make for boring reading. Imagine though if a friend called to say they were late to work due to food poisoning, were subsequently fired, and returned home only to find that they’d been robbed. You would listen to every detail with rapt attention and probably repeat the tale to others. All those occurrences that make life miserable translate into a great story. Of course there is some good in the world that is also gratifying on the page, such as sex, but usually an author is the harbinger of conflict for his creations.

Lately I’ve been busy editing my gay romance novel and it feels like meeting up with old friends. Of the four complete manuscripts I’ve written, the characters in this story are hands down my favorite. I miss then when I’m not working on the book, bad enough that I feel like picking up the phone and giving them a call. Of course this is a problem since they don’t exist.

I could bring those characters back to me by writing a sequel, but I wouldn’t be doing them any favors. I’m not as hard on my characters as some authors, but those that have found happy endings deserve to enjoy them. A book consisting of nothing but dates and hot sex might not sound bad, but it wouldn’t be realistic either, since established relationships are full of quiet moments and simple conversation. Strange how most stories are concerned with the blossoming of love, when making a relationship last decades long is the trick. So maybe there is a book in there somewhere, but for now I’ll let my characters enjoy their reward before I march back into their lives with a bag full of trouble.