A Writer's Objectives

Confessions

Today is another excerpt day.  The short story I am sharing from today is called Confessions of an Author’s Mind. Just a fun story that I think a lot of writers can relate to.

 

I’m beginning to think I’ve gone mad.

I can longer tell what is my imagination and what is pure insanity. I can’t decide if the characters my mind produces are simply that, or the manifestation of a hidden or dormant part of me taking residence in my mind. Or, perhaps they are a mixture of both; my imagination taking on traits I either refuse to show myself and the world or don’t know exist. Whatever the case, it isn’t their existence that bothers me. It isn’t that at all. In fact, I enjoy them. What truly makes me believe I’ve lost my mind is something I’ve dared not admit, until now.

They speak to me.

It isn’t the normal sort; the way a character takes hold of their creators mind in order to get their story out. Any author will understand what I mean. But that isn’t it at all. They speak even when I am far from being near the implements needed to write about them. They tease and taunt me about silly things. Encourage me when I balk at challenges. I even get advice from them from time-to-time. It is, to say the least, rather bizarre. And the worst of it?

I talk back to them.

Ah, yes. How many times have I caught myself babbling away while the other half of the conversation continues on inside my head?! It is more frequent than I really would like to admit. Especially recently. It is like… a fluctuation of activity. I’ve fallen into quite the pattern, most often when I am completely alone.  Though, I suppose, I am not truly alone… am I?

‘ Of course not, lovey. We’re always a thought away.’

That voice… such a sweet, melodious tone. I’d recognize my Daphne any day. Damn… see? They speak to me even now. Blast it all. They leave me without a scant bit of privacy. They’re always just at the edge of my consciousness, waiting. For what, though? A sign of weakness? A need for their special talents? No matter how hard I think on it, I never can come up with a valid reason as to why these beings feel such a great need to be… alive. And I wonder how it is they determine whom I speak with at what times?

 

 

Click the link at the top of the entry to read the rest of the story! 🙂

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