I wonder sometimes, Is it just me or do other writers get as much grief from their characters as I do? Here lately they refuse to tell me their names. I get their personalities lined out and give them a bit of back story (sometimes more than a bit when they won’t shut up), only to have them laugh at me when I ask what their name is. Oddly enough, for the first couple of chapters in the book I’m writing now, there is one man simply known as “The Man” because my main character doesn’t really get a chance to find his name out until later. It seems everyone else has nameless-character envy…
Anyways, I’ve tried just slapping them with names, but they usually just slap me back harder. I’ve tried asking for hints and they tell me it starts with a letter in the alphabet (I ask which alphabet and they tell me to guess!) and I shake my head about and rage at the heavens for making my characters so freaking stubborn!
*Deep Breath… Deep Breath*
There, a little better now. I suppose it’s because I’ve had an odd day with some wickedly weird dreams last night. I don’t remember the dreams, but I do remember waking up and slapping my glasses off of the nightstand. Little Man has been running around the house all day, pumping his fists in the air, and screaming “BANZAI!!!” over and over again. Precious has been running around after him when not at school and telling him he’s not supposed to be running around the house. (I love when I see irony in action in my own house.)
Yeah, so I’ll blame all that then. Distraction and such…
Evil, stubborn characters.
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