I just finished the third book in my Witches of Mayfair series a few days ago. It’s titled
Charming the Devil…which may or may not be a good title, but that’s another blog entirely. The point of today’s musings is the images we have in our heads as we write. See, Charming is about a big Highland warrior, Rogan McBain, caught in the foofy setting of Regency England.
The heroine is a little pixie-like character named Faye Nettles who is terrified of big warrior types…and men in general. So while I was initially plotting the book I tried to imagine these two in the misty sea that is called my mind. Faye was simple. Her face sprang into my brain like one of those pop-ups in picture books. Thandie Newton. If you’re not familiar with her, here she is. Personally, I think she’s one of the most gorgeous, ethereal actresses who have ever graced the silver screen. Thus, perfect for what I had in mind. I’ve had her pictures tacked up by my PC for months now.
But Rogan…he was another story entirely. I didn’t want him to be too good looking. You know, I was searching for that big, rugged, REAL look. And I came up with Gerard Butler. Okay, before you start heaving rotten tomatoes at me, I’d like to apologize. I know millions of women are swooning over Mr. Butler at this very moment. It’s simply that I didn’t find him attractive. I mean, the boy is BUILT. No doubt about that. Think 300. And he can act. Remember PS I Love You. But…
So I found some pics of him and put him up beside Thandie. And it worked okay, but eventually I was feeling…I don’t know…dissatisfied.
Eventually I googled Butler again and discovered…Attila the Hun!!!!! (Did I add enough exclamation points on that? Look at the pics again.) I mean yikes, is he pretty or what? The hair, the eyes, the…well…you get it. When I had snapped my jaw back into place, I printed up a couple photos of him from yesteryear and…well… the book hasn’t been the same since. Suddenly my rather dull hero took on new dimensions. Suddenly he seemed charming and misunderstood and…heroic.
But I’m feeling badly. Does this mean I’m shallow? Unimaginative? Creepy?
And what about you? How clearly do you see the guys in the books you read/write? And what if you don’t envision them as attractive? Is that a problem? Come on, ‘fess up. You’re shallow, too, aren’t you?