While writing last week, a new hero stepped into my book. I had not planned for him. I already had a hero for my MC, but apparently now I have two. Which is okay with me because that makes the love story much more interesting.
At these early stages my hero wasn't quite formed. I only knew he existed. But who was he really?
And then I dreamt him.
Actually, my dream was more like a hero lineup. There were several, and one burly, dusky-haired hero was particularly insistent. But I didn't choose him. I chose him. The shaggy blond-haired, brown-eyed, broad-shouldered, gentle-featured hero who was so kind, so assured, so loving and wise. I fell in literary love.
I saw him in my mind's eye. But what was his name? I discussed names a few posts ago, and there are so many ways a name may come. And this name had to be perfect. Then, while scanning my book spines, looking for inspiration among the Classics, I found one. Rawdon. Oh, Rawdon, you are perfect.