Oedipus Text: Is it Okay to be in Love with Your Own Characters?
It all started with Fitzwilliam Darcy: my first fictional boyfriend. I was twelve years old and I am pretty sure he is what kickstarted my puberty. I am both proud and ashamed to say that I have had many literary romances since then. I never really thought too much about it. And then five years ago I stumbled into the young adult genre, and my boyfriends became under age. My initial internal conflicts were quickly justified away with the succession of each one: Edward, Jace, Dmtri, Patch, Augustus, etc….
Luckily – biblio-pedophilia isn’t punishable by law, but it can get you judged on Facebook. I ran into the conflict that is the subject of this week’s Writing Wednesday when I began my own novel. As I gave life to the character of Ben, and with each scene that I wrote in my head and then transferred onto paper, his character developed, it got deeper, and I came to know him as well as I know myself. . . . . and that’s when I started to love him. I mean really love him. To the point where I began to question my objectivity as the writer. Don’t get my wrong, I have an emotional connection with every single one of my characters, but something about Ben rooted him within my heart a little deeper than the others.
What do you think guys? Have I stumbled into a Mark Twain version of Sister Wives? Have any of my other fellow scribers felt this way about one of the characters you’ve created?
Ps. If you haven’t feel free to lie to me. I am no stranger to easy rationalization.