Organic, But Not Green

One of the advantages of being a writer is shaping worlds to your own particular viewpoint, and having the characters play out scenarios in the manner in which you envision them. One of the disadvantages to being a writer is the simple, unavoidable fact that sometimes your imaginary friends have a mind of their own, if life is breathed into them with enough passion. They hijack plot lines, blurt out things that complicate relationships, and pull things out of their pockets that I didn’t know they had stuffed in there. Keeping up with them has been hard work, but worth it.  It has made the journey of my writing a surprisingly spontaneous, organic experience-- organic not in the FDA certified way, but organic as in a growing, living thing that pulses with its own life and dreams.  What a long, strange trip it’s been, as the hippies would say.  

Using that particular quirk of my writing, I can tell if a character is doing what is right for them, or if I’m trying to force a point. If I’m writing them into behaviors that aren’t their particular cup of tea, they balk hard, and I struggle to write a single page of dialogue. Days go by, and I’ve done nothing but type, backspace, type, backspace. They’re not happy with me, and sometimes it takes me days to realize where I’ve wandered away from my friends. For instance: I have a new character I’m trying to introduce into the second book, and all my main girl can do is swoon over him.  Trust me; she’s not the swooning type. I have worked this guy over for hotness factor, rugged dude look, manly mannerisms, and intriguing background. I thought I had him DOWN. What I forgot to pay attention to was his situation. He’s an office guy. Pencil pusher. Heroine worshiper. He kisses the ground she walks on. Has the whole Bounty paper towel dude look going on, but gets manicures. He’s perfect, but too much so. He’s not rough enough around the edges, and not mysterious enough, doesn’t have the connection with the outdoors like he should. So my main girl decided to show me (I think by being a complete smartass) that he’s wrong for her, and the plot, by fawning all over him, blushing (!!) and agreeing to a ‘weekend away’ after just one date.

Uh, what?

This from the girl that would rather flatten another guy for breathing even the suggestion that she’s easy, rather than give into obvious mutual attraction. Even if he was half out of his mind with crazy, and didn’t have any control over himself? Didn’t matter. Decked him. And now she’s staring into the middle distance, sighing and having fuzzy-edged thoughts about this new guy?

Pshaw.

I went off the rails somewhere. I think, no, I KNOW it’s the new guy’s fault. I’m going to pluck him out of his comfort zone and toss him to the tigers, see what comes up red. Take him down a notch, rough him up a little. Then maybe my main girl will quit with the heaving bodice act. Wish me luck-I hope none of the tigers escape and maul anyone important.