Chapter 10

Chapter 10 took it out of me. I'm exhausted. As I wrote to my draft-reader, the Ink-Clad Diva, it is physically painful for me to put these characters in a state of fear, or anger, or grief. I've become close to the characters. They're a part of me, even though they exist in a completely different dimension--an imaginary world, for heaven's sake. But I just ripped the rose-colored glasses off of my main character, and it was like ripping a scab. I threw the Thorns of Life in her path, and she fell into them and bled, so what did I do? I picked up those thorns and rubbed them in some more.

I just feel sick about it.

But I do feel good about one thing: Part 1 of my draft, ten chapters long, is written.

Time to move on to Part 2, Chapter 11. Hope I don't go bankrupt now! :)


Joan said…
Interesting reading how much feeling you have for your character. I guess I didn't realize that not being a writer. Good work.
Waterfall said…
Joan: Thanks. It is strange, how these "imaginary" people become just as real to me as the "real" ones. So long as I don't get confused between the two. :)

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