On How These Characters Should Live
Every time you write a story there will always be that character who will move your plot, follow every stroke of your pen, every word you say and every scenario you put him/her into. The one who follows every single scene as his life, his perspective.
Most of the time this character resembles a little about the writer, or maybe his parents, or maybe his siblings, or maybe his pet, or maybe anything that is significant enough to his life that he is willing to create a fantasy, a great world, where this certain resemblance can resonate and dominate the whole story.
We create knights, monsters, ladies, men, kids, cats, specters, or divine beings that best fit that character's personality and role to your story. We create something that can be viewed in a physical or abstract manner, something that can be touched or felt, something that can exist and become real.
Every character a writer makes is a part of him that he place in every time he makes a piece. It is like donating a part of your soul to something that you want to be alive, on something that you want to exist in paper and in this world. Like giving ichor to something that isn't living but deserves to live, on something that has no life but was given a chance to dwell.
I have been writing for years now. Was not a professional but will be. And I know I have made stories, and a lot of them has no characters beside myself. Why do I put myself in positions such as that? Why would I want to be someone who is me and isn't me at the same time? Why do I want to live a new life?
Simple. Because, subconsciously, I know that I want to have the ability to dictate everything that happen's in my life. I don't want things to be perfect, I want things to go beyond its natural tendencies, I want right to be left and up to be down, I want to make a triangle by drawing a circle, I want to bend every law of physics that I can break without even the penalty of shattering the space-time balance and I want everything to be not real.
Reality is a harsh realm for mystical minds that create their own dimension. Reality shatters a kid's imagination, it breaks a man's fantasies, and it destroys every women's happily ever after. But we cannot escape it, we are the characters in this world, written by the hand of something more powerful, more capable, than us. We are just blots of ink in this world whose faith is dictated by something other than us, the universe maybe.
Lately I have been seeing myself make stories with different characters, most resembling things that aren't even me. I now make characters, with their own life and their own world, most don't have stories yet but time will come when I will write their name down in a middle of a sentence and forever change their purpose.
Most prominent of these characters were Galynith Agrigold, a librarian, chess grand master and now a hero in a realm of Gods and his companion, pet, divine messenger, Mr. Karthus McCathy, the gentlecat. I promised myself to give them life, to give them a chance to be what they are supposed to be, a chance to be something other than silly names and fictional personalities.
Being someone to create is a nerve-wracking experience for every pressure to bring justice to them is in your hands and in your head. But that is the thrill of a writer and that is what I seek.
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