I'm Falling A Little Bit In Love

I've logged an average of four hours a day for the past week and a half on my novel. I've gotten to the point where I don't cringe when I say "my novel" out loud, and I stand up to stretch after two hours at my laptop, wondering where all the time has gone. It hasn't really ever felt like this before.

Two days ago, I had a eureka plot moment. I realized that one of my main character's best friends--ok, her best friend--has to do something very painful to her. I burst into tears. I walked around my mother's house, unsure of whether to jump for joy or delete all evidence of doing this painful thing. I felt like I had solved a problem, because this event will help me understand why my main character is so scarred and closed off, but I also felt like a real crazy person who creates a pretend world and then declares herself God in a cruel way. I have fallen in love with my main character and with her best friend, and it hurts to do something painful to them, because that means I have to see it through, and stay with her in the aftermath, no matter how many ways I find to numb her.

I suppose this is what writers talk about when they describe full immersion in a novel, when the characters are as real to them as their lovers, relatives, dogs. And I guess this is what seals the deal for a writer to see the thing through until it stops humming.

And I want to say I'm sorry for doing this horrible thing--so horrible, partly because I haven't learned all of its devastating effects on her yet--but I don't know who to say it to, because she's not real. But it feels good to say it to her here, on my little blog with a readership of 1.5 people on a busy day, it feels good to let it out: I have hurt someone I care about.