I don’t know if I explained earlier, but these posts are not going to be filled with advice. Don’t come here looking for a teacher. You will only find a novice writer and part-time adult doing the best she can, which is usually the bare minimum. The analytics say there are, on average, 20 of you who read each post, so I will keep entertaining you as best I can. I live to serve…my own selfish desires.
My characters have become real, living, breathing people. Sometimes, I want to cry because they are so much a part of me now. It’s like how people say you have mastered a language when you dream in that langauge. I am dreaming in the language of my characters. I know them, at least I think I do, and I am finding it easier to write scenes because their thoughts have become second nature.
Yes, I still have a long way to go, and sometimes I get frustrated at the characters because they don’t always do the things I want them to, but I love them through it all. I am an ill-prepared mother, raising these three children on my own, and I really hope I don’t accidentally kill one of them or forget one in a JC Penney. I am more like a 14-year-old on her first babysitting job, and I am terrified that something is going to go wrong. It is my duty to see these characters to the end because they deserve a story. This responsibility causes some stress, but I have never felt so fulfilled in an artistic endeavour.
So I keep writing, and I keep dreaming.
Maybe one day I will give you all a more substantial update, but I am keeping the story close to me for the time being.