The Lion

As you probably know, I do a lot of blogging online with a small community that has, in its own unique way, become surprisingly close. Recently we started writing fiction that included each other as characters, and our stories have overlapped and gotten woven together. I have been doing some writing too, which is weird, since I don't usually post anything publicly, but I took the theme and ran with it, and have found that it's actually a lot of fun. I've been able to tap into my creative side in a way that's been dormant for a while, and I've enjoyed the supportive feedback I've gotten. (Some gals like the crackling dialogue. Imagine, me, the talker, writing about talking! ha ha ha)

There is a character that is me, by another name, and she's had some interesting adventures - fought off a headless horseman, escaped a vengeful poltergeist, been attacked by shadow people, lied to her newspaper editor in order to help fend off an apocalypse...yeah, she's been pretty busy, and not in conventional ways.

That includes meeting in some cases a handsome doctor (wouldn't my mother be proud!) who helps fend off evil and may or may not have a shady past that includes cleaning up from suspected crimes perpetrated by good people against bad (well, maybe she'd be less proud now).

Why this matters is, I started writing about that male character (not a doc in my version but an exercise rider at a major racetrack). I think a lot about my characters - get to know them as I craft them, think about how they would react to certain situations. In short, they are people to me, ones I created, but complex and layered.

In my story, my lead me-character was telling another character how well she and he got along with each other's friends and family. And then I started thinking about how this character would get along with my friends and family. I pictured him sitting at my brother's house learning to play Uno or how he might be shy around my talkative friends at first but would then open up.

And I was really wistful, you know, for somebody like that to fit into my life. Somebody who would see the best parts of me, which that character I created is, and who would want to be part of the life that I have. Would want to be close to my family. Would want to get to know my friends. Would want to come to family Christmases and travel the world and watch TV in his pajamas with me [drawstring pants, natch ;-)]. Would want to come to movie nights and play board games, and then teach me how to be braver and stronger. See things I've never seen. Take risks. Explore.

One of the gals writes a scene where the character based on me meets this doc - we turn up in a couple of stories in a couple of incarnations, all basic variations on a theme - and it practically popped off the page for me. How she shakes his hand and her tongue sticks to the roof of her mouth (a peanut butter reference, however unintentional, always wins points with me) and how he smiles when he sees her, and how he has eyes like a lion's.

Wistfulness becomes an ache and a fear and a hope, all at once.

I will just keep writing.