Guest blogger: Louise Forster

Characters, career changes, and discipline

I’m fascinated by people’s experiences. Everyone can tell a story, some people can tell whoppers. Some are brilliantly funny tale-spinners, but ask them to write their stories down and they don’t know where to begin. For them it’s the telling of a story and watching reactions in the people around them. Writers rarely have that luxury. We sit in our favourite little hidey-hole and let our minds run amok or we may be disciplined and put a plot together with names, character arc and black moment all set out on a grid or story board. Whatever method they use, it still takes discipline.

I’m a reasonably early starter—as in, I’m up around six-thirty or seven—but it takes me a while to gear up and wake up; coffee helps. I feel like I’ve spent a lifetime writing, but actually putting words down on paper and creating a story, only started about fifteen years ago. I love creating characters and have them do and say things I was too shy, or not brave enough to consider doing or saying myself. For instance, Katherine, the heroine in Finding Elizabeth, became a ballet dancer at a young age. Her life was all about routine and extreme discipline. While nursing an injury, unable to dance, she didn’t fall in a heap (well, she may have, briefly), instead, she took the opportunity to train for a new career. Once back on stage, she used that discipline to keep learning, knowing that at any moment life could throw a nasty curve ball. When the curve ball came straight at her, and her career ended, Katherine coped with her situation and used it to change her life.

Excerpt from Finding Elizabeth

“Are you okay?” Jack asked.

“Yes, thank you.” She glanced up at him. “Why shouldn’t I be?” Ooh, testy, she thought.

Either he didn’t notice her defensive tone, or he was smart enough to ignore it.

“You’re a local and you shivered. That doesn’t bode well for me.”

Jack prattled on while Katherine kept a look out.

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said,” Jack said good-naturedly. His eyes, nose and chin were pink and stiff from the cold. His brave effort at a smile, failed.

“I’m sorry,” Katherine tugged her hat down around her ears. “Honestly, I didn’t mean to be rude. My mind was on something else.”

“I gathered as much,” Jack said with feeling. “I was saying your town is picture postcard perfect.”

Katherine nodded. “You won’t get an argument out of me. Look at what we’ve got— majestic mountains, ski slopes, meadows, not to mention the town itself. Why anyone would want to live anywhere else is a mystery.” She took a deep breath. Icy air hit her lungs and she coughed. Tears sprang in her eyes, she quickly blinked them away.

Jack peered at her. “Are you doing that so your eyeballs won’t freeze over?” he asked. “Should I do that as well? I reckon there should be a weather warning.” He squared his shoulders and mimicked an announcer’s voice. “Temperatures will freeze your eyeballs today. Also, men’s nostril hairs will freeze and snap off.”

Katherine laughed, and for an instant forgot all about the Eric problem.

“You can thank my friend Dave for that last observation.”

Getting her breath back, Katherine nudged Jack with her elbow. “Okay, so who’s Dave?”

“Dave Wilson, snorer in the fifth row, sports journalist and university friend, now living and working in Calgary. Loves all winter sports, and sports in general.”

“He probably knows my friend Leandra. She’s a champion skier.”

Jack shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. “I think Dave knows every woman in Calgary.”
Katherine slowed her stride. “Here we are.”

Jack opened the door and stood aside for Katherine.

The door closed behind them, and she was sure Jack sighed with pleasure.

“I enjoyed walking with you, Katherine, but when we do this again, I’m going to need more than thermals.”

When we do this again? “That’s assuming we do.” He seemed nice enough, but she wasn’t going to start anything, with anyone. Not for a while anyway.

Delicious aromas of breads and muffins, just out of the oven, and freshly brewed coffee made her mouth water. The new owner Julie had spruced the place up since last she’d been in, and replaced the tired, drab colours with rich autumn tones. Heavy drapes hung on either side of the snow-laden French windows, held back with matching tasselled ties.

“Let me take your parka,” Jack said as he slipped the jacket from her shoulders.

“Thank you.” For an instant, he was close enough for her to catch the scent of fresh, sun-dried laundry. Her mind darted to a hot beach, hot sun, hot man. No way—especially after last night and this morning.

Jack moved to the main door, placed her skates and his snowshoes under a bench, and hung her parka on a hook above.

A couple of small sofas and coffee tables stood near a large open fire blazing in a granite rock wall. Katherine chose a comfortable booth for them overlooking the courtyard.

He pulled his gloves off and shoved them into the pockets of his sheepskin coat; his strong tanned fingers worked to undo the buttons. She had to admit he had great hands.

Being a dancer, Katherine knew the time and energy it took to keep fit. Jack was super-fit. Without his sheepskin coat, which had hidden an incredible body, his movements were easy and relaxed. Seeing strong, lean, half-naked men was a part of ballet. Jack had a larger physique, and she liked the way his muscles moved under his grey cashmere sweater. He pulled his hat off and hung it on a hook. She smiled when he absent-mindedly ran a hand through his messed, sun-bleached hair.

Turning, he flashed Katherine a warm, easy smile that went all the way to his eyes. Very nice, she thought. Sure, he was different, charming and amusing, but she wasn’t so easily swayed. Not even his physique would do that—oh no. Then why was her wayward mind stripping cashmere? Ah, to hell with it. She picked up the menu and studied it.

“So,” Jack folded his long frame and sat opposite her. “You’re a Spruce Valley girl.”

You can find Louise on her website. Finding Elizabeth is available from Escape Publishing.