People often refer to writers as solitary individuals because when they are working, they often shut themselves off from the world with only their tools to keep them company. Unless, like witches of old, they have a cat. We’ll talk more about the cat later.
Readers don’t account for all the people we invite into our process who are as real to us as some of our closest companions. Many we welcome with open arms. We celebrate their successes and cry as they suffer a tragic loss or make a poor choice. Others come unwelcomed and we would prefer to just shut the door in their ugly little faces. Often these intruders still push their way in and remain far too long. No matter what, it is important that a close relationship is developed with each one.
At the moment, I’m trying to get to know Maggie - at least, that’s what it says on her name tag.
When I first met Maggie behind the counter of her cafe, she appeared quite ordinary. It wasn’t until she turned to face me straight on that my mouth opened and I stood silently, trying not to react any further. I observed that the left side of her face was severely disfigured. I wasn’t sure, but it may have been from a burn. What I was certain about, however, was there stood a troubled soul with secrets. A woman who had, in her youth, been a beauty.
Maggie is the protagonist in the novel I am currently outlining.
One of my least favourite visitors is my personal critic. What really infuriates me is that he tries to come off as an advisor, encouraging me to do better. Even when I remind him I don’t have a complete first draft yet, I can’t seem to stop him from pointing out phrases he feels must be rewritten immediately. It’s really hard for me to give him the boot because I recognize I will need him later.
These are only a couple of my visitors when I am writing these days. I am still early in preparing my outline. For the time being, I will only seek comfort from the various cats that show up when my thoughts drift to the advice presented in the book, “Save the Cat! Writes a Novel” by Brody.
So am I crazy to have so many imaginary friends?
