It’s a little known fact that writers are crazy. Certifiable. 100 percent. We are the only profession were it’s okay, even encouraged, to have voices in our heads. Those are our characters. They scream at us when we don’t accurately portray them. They keep us up at night when they feel neglected. They talk to us on long drives home. And, when they’re really generous, they tell us our plots and what happens in their lives.
I personally credit Anabel Suarez, one of four characters in my book, with helping me finish it. She woke me up at four in the morning with a new beginning scene. From there it was a piece of cake. Upside down (Stand and Deliver reference, sorry.)
But the current adventures of Anabel and her friends Patricia, Cindy, and Sara is going through the third rough draft edit. While that is happening, I’m researching and listening to the current voice in my head, Charity or Caridad (in Spanish). She’s complex and needs time to ripen and the only way to do that is to write down what she tells me. But these four ladies SO get in the way!
My friend Rachel had to hear about it Tuesday night.
“What do I do? These bitches keep talking to me!”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry. Write stuff down?”
See, not even another writer can help me with this. Someone please call the loony bin, those chicks are driving me nuts.