Not Really in the Drivers Seat. .
I’ve had my heart broken, my soul traumatized, and my psyche upended by hundreds of characters that I’ve loved head over heels in books who made ridiculous, stupid, or stubborn decisions that rocked me of my happily ever after. Before I actually sat down and began penning my first novel, I vowed that I would not commit these heinous hate crimes against my readers feelings. When I was in control of a creative universe, everything would work out for the best, as it should.
Then as I gave credence and life to the characters playing out stories and scenes in my head, I came to a startling conclusion: that I was not really in the drivers seat. My characters may exist in the alternate dimension of my imagination, but they are as real as you and me. I found myself a helpless observer of the world playing out in front of me, unable to do anything but record what I saw. Because it doesn’t really work, loses the ability to be a genuine phenomenon that leaves us breathless and manipulates our minds, hearts, and senses, if as creators we choose to ignore the free will of our children.
So I apologize, future readers. Like every author worth their salt, I was unable to jump in front of the literary bus of circumstance and rescue your feelings. Prepare for the violence of a gauntlet of emotions, few of them warm and fuzzy. And despite discovering that my tenable position as driver of this bus gave me limited influence over the route that you take, strap in, it’s going to be one hell of a ride.