In yesterday’s post, I discussed how fictional characters must be based on real people. A writer does so either consciously, or thanks to the subconscious. But it is done all the same.
As authors, fiction also allows us a release. If we are real-life trapped and cannot say what we’d truly *love* to blurt out, our pages provide an escape. We have our characters, such as “Beatrice”:
When all else fails, a real-life crème brûlée might help divert the attention:
Hope you are having a better day today than my last night – when a special dinner for my wife was “hijacked” by relatives who focused instead on uninvited (and so not present) others whom my wife and I dislike (that’s being polite) and a decade ago decided we will never again interact with socially. And those relatives well-know that, but still refuse to accept our stance because they adore them. (Hence over those people we’re “nasty,” “bitter” and “unreasonable.”) And (once again) I had to keep my mouth shut.
For an author, though, episodes like that are in their ways always useful. We all have to get “fiction” from somewhere, of course. I made mental notes and I think I found some future material. 😉