proserie

Writing fiction is just socially acceptable insanity.

I do this thing where I talk to my mirror.

It looks like I’m talking to myself, and I keep repeating things in different voices. I look like a crazy person. I know this, because I’m looking at myself in a mirror. But it’s not me I’m talking to. I’m hashing out conversations between characters. It helps when trying out new ideas, for me, to let characters talk out loud before I type out their dialogue.

I probably scare my brother.

Getting their emotions straight – getting their facial expressions straight – beforehand is sometimes what I need to keep the scene from running off the rails. There are moments when dialogue is just wrong, and I have to talk it through, say it out loud, before it starts to sound natural. There are moments when I realize that characters need to say a hell of a lot less. (This happens a lot.)

And then there are times when I start interviewing myself in the mirror. And that’s just procrastination. So it’s back to editing.

I’m into edits building up to the “beta manuscript” – that glorious creation that is not nearly ready to publish but makes enough sense to give to more people to read. The one that isn’t missing entire chapters of material.

My head hurts so it’s time to switch narrators. Mac makes everything better.

(Mood swing? Character swing? Is there a difference?)

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