I don’t watch movies in the Summer. My eyes devour storms instead. I prefer to sit on my porch and watch the thunderheads grow above the horizon and slide over my home. Each season, they form in the west, and then crawl towards the east. They growl and rumble while harassing the land with their sparks, wind and noise, threatening everything as they go. Their drama is way better than anything I can see on television.
There’s something exciting about storms that draws me in. I can’t put my finger on it. It’s visceral. Primeval. My body wakes when they’re near. I feel more alive when the sky swells with moisture laden air.
I’ll watch those columns of churning cloud rise into the night sky. I’ll stop everything I’m doing to turn off all my house lights, pull up a chair, and watch the sporadic flashes emanating from within them. When the lightning finally breaks through that wild Beast and then strikes the ground, my heart begins to race fast. A flush of heat rises to my skin. Goosebumps form. That familiar localised flash fills me with excitement, and the thumping air that follows it finishes me off.
I know thunderstorms well because I used to photograph them. I wrote about them several times. When it came time to writing about the best one of all, I drew from the deep, personal experiences I had with them. The sensations I got from watching tropical thunderstorms develop, move and deliver their lot, were placed directly into my book’s protagonist. What I saw with my eyes, he sees with his own. What I felt, he feels. Readers will enjoy his innermost sensations when he’s encountering the storm.
And now we must say something of sex. After all, I should connect the dots I laid down two paragraphs ago. Yes, let’s complete what I started.
As you may have guessed, storms and sex are intrinsically linked together — at least, they are for me. As a consequence, so too does the protagonist inside SEETHINGS. My part was to bring those two worlds together in the best possible way, so a reader could come along for the ride.
Yes, I revealed a part of myself on this very blog. I rarely do that.
Sex and storms. There, I said it.
There is the highly charged electricity, the anticipation, noise, frenzied activity, the explosive climax, and then the wetness that follows. These are the bones of my sexually-driven storm story, but it took eight years and thirteen re-writes to give it the proper flesh. Yes, it’s important to mention that too. SEETHINGS wasn’t a quick write. It was a thorough one.
And then there’s the serial killer I wove into the narrative — just to make things extra-interesting. Now you’ll want to see where this goes, right?