Over the past few months, I've been carving out time in my busy schedule to write a sequel to my first book, "Casey of Cranberry Cove". The main character, Casey, is fun to write, and I'm enjoying the adventures that we've been having together. However, she suddenly has become a bit of a brat. Instead of following the path that I had set out for her in this book, she is beginning to act out against my wishes, much like a real teenager would do. As a result, my story line has taken a left instead of a right, and I'm heading down a road that's not very familiar.
While I love the idea that Casey has a mind of her own, it's causing havoc all over my neat little outlines. I've now got lines, arrows and scribbles, characters that I never knew existed, and a deadline that is in jeopardy. I could very well be a real parent here, put my foot down, and send her to her room, which would allow me to get back on the path I was on. But I'm beginning to wonder, maybe her tantrum is going to take us on an adventure she's never dreamed of, to a place she's never been before, to find a proverbial door that will open a realm of new opportunities for her. Who am I to deny her of that?
So here I sit, on a snowy day, wondering if maybe the guy I wanted her to end up with wasn't right for her after all. Maybe she's found someone better, and is leading me to him. Maybe she wants a different "happily ever after" than the one I'd imagined for her.
One thing I did learn through all of this. Creating a character is like giving birth. You grow with them, discipline them, learn from them, cry with them, love them, and sometimes you just have to give in and let them have their way.