Remember the story that Herself had begun a while ago? She wrote two short scenes then -- approximately 400 words each -- and then stopped. It seems, perhaps, that those pieces were crying out to be put into words, but that the full formation of the rest needed to brew slowly. She has contemplated the story periodically since then, generating additional characters in her mind. She has no distinct plot yet. Still, with a bit of work yesterday, she now has just a hair over 1,700 words. With the average novel being anywhere from 60,000 to 200,000 words (according to various searches in The Google), at this rate, it will take a mighty long time. Nevertheless, the creative process is always a happy thing.
Character development is particularly tricky for Herself; she has rather a lot of difficulty putting herself into another's shoes, seeing through another's eyes. She knows that the fictional individuals she creates will likely have qualities similar to those of actual people, for she can write best from what she has seen and felt, even if she adjusts, idealizes, or otherwise alters those experiences. She wonders whether people will see themselves in her book, or if they will erroneously attribute actions or motivations to her familiars by assuming that particular characters are modeled after certain real individuals.
She will remind everyone: it is fiction. Those who know her well already know that her life is an open book. This written story will be something else entirely.
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