Love in a Notebook
Daniel is not real. A one-minute fiction
For my newer subscribers, a one-minute revised tale from the archive of 2022. If you have read it before, thank you!
Daniel’s not real. I wrote him into being. I limned his eyes, his lips, his body with my very best words, gave him intelligence and a keen sense of humor. And now I’ve fallen so painfully in love with him, I can scarcely breathe. I hear his voice in the kitchen, his footsteps down the hall. I feel his hand on my shoulder. Day after day, as I write, more of his character reveals itself to me, like an old knitted sweater coming unraveled, one stitch at a time.
What’s to be done when writers foolishly form attachments to someone they’ve created? These flawed, yet perfect characters seem so real, when, in fact, they breathe only from the blue-lined pages of our notebooks?
It's inevitable, I think, for a writer to "fall" for the characters he/she creates. Afterall, these are all your "children" ... you literally created them out of thin air, but with serious infusion of your OWN likes & dislikes, habits & concerns, and your own "worldview"... and it's a wonderful feeling to know you have such children who can be what YOU choose them to be! And that solves the problem of having real biological offspring who may grow up to not giving a hoot about you. And I say this out of earned experience.
When they are "almost" real, keep writing till they stand before you fully formed and whisk you off your feet. Off your world. Onto his. Where you live happily ever after.