Daily Stats:
Words: a lot
Caffeine: morning cup so far
Evil Calories: more yum-tastic sugar cookies
Reality TV: DVR'd Top Design
I had a very strange dream last night about one of my characters from my previous book. Though he was written as a very "together" dude, he popped up in my dream all disheveled and slightly vagrant-like. In fact, I didn't even recognize him at first. My friend Shannon and I were walking through the mall inside of the Starship Enterprise (it's located on the Picard level, right next to the 24 Hr Fitness, by the way) and my character was slumped on a bench by this weird water fall thingy (the water was actually going up...so a water... rise?). He looked terrible! He was all dirty; clothes ripped and hair matted and frizzy. He didn't say anything; he just shifted around anxiously, giving me a nervous half-smile. After we passed him, I said something to Shannon, who told me I was crazy ("like we'd run into him here") and then she said she had to hurry home before her crepes were done.
(If you knew Shannon, you'd be laughing.)
I woke up with this horrible sense of guilt. Is there some parallel universe where all the characters I've created are living? And because I have several projects just collecting dust inside my "Poo Lives" folder on my computer, are these characters just wandering aimlessly, lonely and confused?
Was he trying to tell me something? Was it a sign?
Or was it just the result of the 400 sugar cookies I had before bed?
5 comments:
Oh, they're alive somewhere. No doubt about that. And they're obsessed with regaining their creator's attention.
They're bitter, and angry, and slowly losing their grip on the collective sanity. It'll take one misplaced grumble, and then the lot of them will turn into an angry mob with torches and pitch forks and the whole works.
And then they'll come down your street...
My advice to you: finish their stories. Don't leave them in limbo. For the sake of your family, Vivi, finish their stories.
Thanks, BPV. I'm now huddled in my basement with my computer, a lantern and a steak knife (the only clean knife I could find...remind me later I need to work on that whole "domestic goddess" thing). I will quickly finish all my writing and turn all my characters into sweet little fuzzy bunnies so they don't hunt me down and burn me at the stake.
How funny. And, no, I don't think that characters ever really die once they've been created and worked into a story, even if they are sometimes forgotten.
I feel some guilt about abandoning my characters after I've brought them to life as well. It just seems so mean.
Poo files?
I know Shannon. I am laughing.
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