I was able to spend a good amount of time editing this weekend and got stuck on a minor detail, so I asked my husband. I needed a suggestion for a beater car for my main character. He suggested a Toyota Corolla – perfect (yes, I am aware that the car I have pictured doesn’t match. Best I could do). I also decided to see if he had a suggestion for the car’s name. His suggestion gave the car a completely different personality than I was envisioning, so I let him know my car’s name was temporarily Sharon. Asking if the car was named after Sharon Stone set me off in a whole new direction. Here’s what the scene looked like before:
Carl made his way down to the parking garage and found his ancient *bad car*. It was the very definition of a beater. The faded blue paint had been worn or chipped away in many places, revealing the prior paint jobs. Despite the less-than-desirable appearance, Carl was fond of his car, who he called *Sharon*. He secretly loved the blood red paint peeking through – it almost made her seem alive. Truth be told, he occasionally held what he considered meaningful conversations with Sharon, working out some of life’s biggest mysteries on his 5 minute commute to and from work.
The drive home wasn’t long; it would have been easy for him to walk, but he wasn’t much for physical activity. It was only a mile or so, not even long enough for Carl to get a decent thought in his head – of course, had he walked, he would have had plenty of time to think. He parked the car in his driveway, got out and fumbled with his keys. Three tries later, he finally got the door open and headed inside.
And here’s the scene with Sharon Stone, Corolla, as a character.
Carl made his way down to the parking garage and found his beloved Toyota Corolla. It was the very definition of a beater, and if it were a person, she would’ve been old enough to buy alcohol. The faded blue paint had been worn or chipped away in many places, revealing the prior paint jobs. Despite the her less-than-desirable appearance, Carl was fond of his car, who he had named Sharon Stone – Share when he was relaxed, SHARON when he was angry. He secretly loved the blood red paint peeking through – it almost made her seem alive. Truth be told, he occasionally held what he considered meaningful conversations with Share, working out some of life’s biggest mysteries on his 5 minute commute to and from work.
The drive home wasn’t long; it would have been easy for him to walk, but he wasn’t much for physical activity. It was only a mile or so, not even long enough for Carl to get a decent thought in his head – of course, had he walked, he would have had plenty of time to think. But then he couldn’t chat with Sharon.
As he turned left out of the parking garage, he said, “Hey Sharon! Today I got invited to a party.” He paused. “Yeah, by Sarah! Can you believe it?” He nodded proudly as if Sharon had answered. “This is it Share. I can feel it. By this weekend, I’m gonna have a girlfriend.” He frowned at the dashboard. “No, I don’t think she’s too good for me. Yes, I know all my other girlfriends dumped me. Sarah’s different. … Okay, whatever Sharon. She’s the only one who hasn’t ever said anything mean about you. You should be grateful.” Upset, Carl spent the last few blocks ignoring Sharon’s warnings.
He parked Sharon in his driveway, and turned off the ignition. As he got out, he slammed the door on her, still angry. Mumbling as he stood at the side door, he fumbled with his keys. Three tries later, he finally got the door open and headed inside.
Sometimes great improvements come from unlikely places.
I was able to spend a good amount of time editing this weekend and got stuck on a minor detail, so I asked my husband. I needed a suggestion for a beater car for my main character. He suggested a Toyota Corolla – perfect (yes, I am aware that the car I have pictured doesn’t match. Best I could do). I also decided to see if he had a suggestion for the car’s name. His suggestion gave the car a completely different personality than I was envisioning, so I let him know my car’s name was temporarily Sharon. Asking if the car was named after Sharon Stone set me off in a whole new direction. Here’s what the scene looked like before:
Carl made his way down to the parking garage and found his ancient *bad car*. It was the very definition of a beater. The faded blue paint had been worn or chipped away in many places, revealing the prior paint jobs. Despite the less-than-desirable appearance, Carl was fond of his car, who he called *Sharon*. He secretly loved the blood red paint peeking through – it almost made her seem alive. Truth be told, he occasionally held what he considered meaningful conversations with Sharon, working out some of life’s biggest mysteries on his 5 minute commute to and from work.
The drive home wasn’t long; it would have been easy for him to walk, but he wasn’t much for physical activity. It was only a mile or so, not even long enough for Carl to get a decent thought in his head – of course, had he walked, he would have had plenty of time to think. He parked the car in his driveway, got out and fumbled with his keys. Three tries later, he finally got the door open and headed inside.
And here’s the scene with Sharon Stone, Corolla, as a character.
Carl made his way down to the parking garage and found his beloved Toyota Corolla. It was the very definition of a beater, and if it were a person, she would’ve been old enough to buy alcohol. The faded blue paint had been worn or chipped away in many places, revealing the prior paint jobs. Despite the her less-than-desirable appearance, Carl was fond of his car, who he had named Sharon Stone – Share when he was relaxed, SHARON when he was angry. He secretly loved the blood red paint peeking through – it almost made her seem alive. Truth be told, he occasionally held what he considered meaningful conversations with Share, working out some of life’s biggest mysteries on his 5 minute commute to and from work.
The drive home wasn’t long; it would have been easy for him to walk, but he wasn’t much for physical activity. It was only a mile or so, not even long enough for Carl to get a decent thought in his head – of course, had he walked, he would have had plenty of time to think. But then he couldn’t chat with Sharon.
As he turned left out of the parking garage, he said, “Hey Sharon! Today I got invited to a party.” He paused. “Yeah, by Sarah! Can you believe it?” He nodded proudly as if Sharon had answered. “This is it Share. I can feel it. By this weekend, I’m gonna have a girlfriend.” He frowned at the dashboard. “No, I don’t think she’s too good for me. Yes, I know all my other girlfriends dumped me. Sarah’s different. … Okay, whatever Sharon. She’s the only one who hasn’t ever said anything mean about you. You should be grateful.” Upset, Carl spent the last few blocks ignoring Sharon’s warnings.
He parked Sharon in his driveway, and turned off the ignition. As he got out, he slammed the door on her, still angry. Mumbling as he stood at the side door, he fumbled with his keys. Three tries later, he finally got the door open and headed inside.
Sometimes great improvements come from unlikely places.