It’s interesting how our characters can change so much in just a few thousand words. And how we can grow to love them even before we’ve written them!
Case in point: protagonist one was once just a head case with a germ phobia, but throw a little illicit love her way and she becomes more your loveable space-cadet – Bridget Jones meets ME on anti-psychotic medication! As I write, I so want for Jewish man to fall in love with her, even if she is lowly Gentile who eats bacon and drinks copious amounts of vodka on a Saturday. (By the by, I have no idea how I’m going to get around this issue as I doubt it will be published if my Jewish character renounces his faith – not outside of Australia, anyway! There’s still the falling off cliff possibility – perhaps tragic near-death experiences override distasteful bigotry aspect of having said Jewish-man leave his religion. Even if it is for love, which is WAY more important than religion. God says so himself. Sort of.) (Ok, he doesn’t but I think it makes more sense to love a person than a holy ghost and if you can explain the trinity in a way that makes me believe it I’ll give a kazzillion of my dollars to the Catholic Church!) (HA! As if!!!!)
Hmm. Bible bashing again. (And lots of brackets.) I’m sorry. My novel has no anti-religious sentiment whatsoever. Swear to God!
Then there’s protagonist two, who was a recovering nymphomaniac, until my friend suggested I needed to give her more likeable qualities – which she now has in spades. I guess one nut-job per novel is enough. Or is it? (One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest certainly negates this theory.)
Anyway, I guess the main and only point of this ramble is to say that 14 days in, I am still very much enjoying writing my chick-shit-wit-tit deliciously-funny-and-better-than-Marion-Keyes novel – which makes it 13 days longer than I have spent on any single story (outside my Masters) since about 2004. Bravo to me!!!
Is it time for celebratory cupcakes now?
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