Friday, October 14, 2011
Negotiation with Reality
A dear friend and I once discussed different genres and she admitted she didn't read any book that wasn't real. So fairy tales and paranormal stories and the entire collection of science fiction wasn't in her to-be-read pile. Never will be.
I, on the other hand, cannot seem to write anything real. No matter what I do, my characters insist on hailing from way out areas...as in other planets. Or they have odd talents. Or they're weird colors. But mostly, they're not real. They're other.
Another friend once counseled me to write what I know. Evidently, this is it. I think I must be living somewhere else on a planet far, far away in my dreams. Maybe I communicate with my relatives during the dark hours right before dawn. Perhaps...I really do carry a secret zucchini peeler that I wield with fierce fury against the bad guys.
I wonder if there's a twelve step group for people like me. And what would the twelve steps consist of? To whom would we make amends? Our families for dragging them into the insanity? Hmmmm. I must consider the consequences here.
On the other hand if I had a firm grip on reality I probably wouldn't feel comfortable wearing my favorite t-shirt anymore. You know that one that says "I'm in my own little world--it's okay, they know me here." Who would I give it to if I couldn't wear it? Maybe...nah, I think I'll just hang out where I am...