An odd phenomenon

A year and a half ago I completed my third manuscript, which was an incredible adventure story that somehow failed to reveal its indisputable brilliance to any but a select few – like my CPs. And, seeing how my CPS are actually quite market-savvy, I marvel that others were immune to its charms. I still believe its time will come.

But I digress. Towards the endof the writing, when I lived very heavily in what others have called “Bookworld,” I found myself taking on certain characteristics of the characters. For instance, one of the characters I was writing had a very severe phobia to birds. Like, if she saw a pidgeon, she’d go catatonic. I felt a growing unease around our feathered friends, and when Sailor Boy found himself in a rather severe altercation with a parakeet (the parakeet, sad to report, got the short end of the stick — he actually punched it for trying to make off with a chunk of Sailor Boy’s ear) I launched intoa full-fledged panic attack. Looking back on it now, I’m amused. What must that scene have appeared like to the onlooker? Sailor Boy, locked in battle with a small red pile of feathers, and his partner, standing several feet away, frozen to the spot with a look of abject horror on her face. Sad, my friend, truly sad.

Now, am closing in on the final chapters of my book. My main character trusts no one, and has good reason to be a bit on the Mulder side of paranoid. After all, there’s an international cabal of shadow government types after her. However, this is not a good time for me to stop trusting: hmmmm… my parents, Sailor Boy, my agent, my friends, my boss, the nice man who mixes my iced caramel mocha at Cosi…

I think Bookworld is hazardous to my health. 😉