First off I want to thank Jennifer for allowing me to guest post on her blog today. It takes a lot of courage to let someone you haven’t met do that – I’ll try to be on my best behavior. I say try only because I have been able to lock myself in my office, but I know for a fact that David will go to any lengths of messing with me including pick the lock and then claim his brother Micah needs me for something. My kids? Oh no, they aren’t MY kids… sigh… but you’d think they were considering how often they’re either running, screaming, or tapping their feet in annoyance in my head. No, David and Micah are just a few characters who live along side everything else going on in my over active brain. Yes, it is very crowded at times – why do you think I allow David the opportunity to polish his lock picking skills? 
As you can see, my characters are very much a part of me. I don’t know if it’s the same with every author, but I can tell you about my experiences and leave the determination of my sanity for your perusal at a later date. Right now, we can jump right in to the subject at hand – I’m quirky, not actually insane. Most people might argue the point, but I’m not most people and since it is my *ahem* quirkiness we’re pondering, we’ll go with my point of view which goes something like this…
I’ve always had another life going on in my head. I’ll admit it. Whether it was a case of my real life wasn’t that engaging, or I wasn’t impressed with the current affairs of things, I don’t know. However, what I do know is that my family and friends would often give me looks of concern, unsure whether I’m one of those children or not. Oh come on, you know the ones… they’re usually the ones that eat paste, color on the walls and insist they’re a cat just because they can. The ones where all the mothers gather together and shake their heads while muttering, “That child just ain’t right!” Okay, the last part probably happened more than once, but I never actually ate the paste (it was more like a quick taste), I was too obsessed with trying to stay in the lines so why would I have colored on the walls, and being a cat? One time… once to make a friend smile and it haunts a person! *ahem* Carrying on…
When you’ve basically had more interaction with imaginary timelines and characters than real people and events, you really start to wonder about your own stability. Which is probably a main reason why I write. No, I don’t think I should be fitted for a nice tight white jacket with buckles (not for this anyway), but I do accept the reality that society doesn’t seem to appreciate the delicate balance of someone who can live in multiple worlds and alternate universes simultaneously. Can we say extreme multi-tasking? Yes, I thought so. So, what is the classification of someone bound to bring to life the worlds and stories residing in one’s head? Do we really need one? If we need one, then who chooses the distinction between the right world and the wrong world we create? I don’t know about you, but any world I’ve jumped into at the time is the right one, if for no other reason than I get the chance to tell a story of someone else’s making. Oh, you think I’m the one creating these stories? *laughs* You’re cute!
I’ve been asked several times what method of writing I use, and each time I’ll get a blank look on my face, blink a couple of times, and then say in the most intelligent of ways, “Uh… fly by the seat of my pants?” Yeah, you can imagine the stunned looks I get at times but it’s the truth. I hate outlines, always have. In sch
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