Character Love

I am a horrible creator.

 

And when I say creator, I’m hoping you all know I mean my characters. If not, I mean my characters.

 

I have been ask twice, in about as many weeks which was my favourite characters, and I came up with nothing, so instead I was honest, which I’m beginning to realise yet again that gets me in trouble—or makes people not like me, but then I already know I’m horrible at first impressions.

 

But let’s get back on track.

 

You see, when I finish writing a book I tend to end up hating the characters. It’s not a completely hate, more the hate when you’re so irritated by something they’ve said or done that you can’t get over it, and therefore everything they do piss you off even though it never did before.

 

My sister said something the other day that sort of ties this up:

“I’m not sure how to say this but I hate your face at the moment so everything you say is pissing me off”

 

The thing is I’m not sure if I ever liked my characters in the first place but either way it’s safe to say by the end of our time together I need an extended break.

 

This thing, right here, is what has happening with my Moonlit Wolves series, which is why I’m struggling with it so much.

 

Everything starts out fine, the idea is great. The characters are alive. They are new, exciting and then like all good relationships it starts to level out, only normally when you’re in a relationship with people you get a bit of space. At least that’s what I do, I can’t be with the same person over and over without some form of break.

 

The problem? They are people inside your head, and the more you love the idea, the more you love the story, the more they take over your head, and so there isn’t a break. No matter what you do they are there, bitching, wining, telling you there story over and over until you get it out of your head for good.

 

Again, I know the way I’m speaking may seem like I’m talking about other people, but this is what I feel, this is what I go through.

 

So as you can imagine by the end I’m over them, I need them to fuck off so that I can have a break but as I’m sure you all know, signing ‘the end’ isn’t the end of anything. and so I have to go and visit them, day after day, week after week, and then there may be a break, and back again, like an old friend that just won’t get the fucking point.

 

So it comes to the point that I don’t have any favourite, or at least I didn’t until I remember my first book published My Kevin and the love pattered in my heart – so apparently it takes about a year to return.