Friday, August 23, 2013

Ah, we are such strange creatures.

As I was a-writing today, I had to do something-awful-to-a-character-I-love/make-a-character-I-love-do-something awful/all-or-both-but-they-triumph/I'm-melodramatic-they-get-a-torn-nail at Ye Olde Day
Job.  And I broke down crying.  I mean, the ugly kind.  It was not a polite, ladylike lament.  There was snot.  People were concerned.  And I was completely at a loss as to how to explain it.

This is the thing.  I tend to grok towards certain character types, but I don't do Mary Sues.  (If anything, I'm often told that my characters are too snotty and aggressive.)  My persons all have quirks and flaws, sometimes very deep ones*.  I'm used to dealing with characters Being Very Naughty or going through Very Naughty things.  I giggle when I kill my darlings.  WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME HERE?  I used to be objective.  I swear I was.

...well, I could fake it, anyway.

*I am a sad little redemptionista.  I love watching characters fall to their very bottom and then scrabble back up, bloodied and wiser.  It ties both into the part where I love them and where I'm a wee bit sadistic.  All I can say is: I used to be in fandom.

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