Avoid directing yourself.
Really.
Unless you’re tangling with an autobiography (in which all your actions
should be past actions and therefore inarguable… Revisionist history? Ha!
Never.), don’t cast yourself in your novel.
Really.
It’s not a matter of you not being interesting or colorful enough to
thrive in your fictional wherever-land. No, it’s a matter of distance, or lack
thereof, to be exact.
An author must have some distance from his/her characters. Objectivity
is key in keeping a storyline moving and grooving. Plopping yourself in the
middle of the dance floor and boogying down with the whole gang leads not only
to stark embarrassment but writerly headaches. Big ones.
Really.
Thackary in The Hushing Days is more me than any character I’ve ever
written. And while he’s only a supporting actor, keeping him in line with the
rest of the cast has been, um, difficult. (Apparently, I’m a very head strong
personality. No wonder I’m not married.)
In short: putting yourself in your story is not worth the time nor the
aggravation.
Really.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
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