This statement couldn’t be more absolutely true in this moment. One because, for most of us, we all have that one scene we wrote under that influx of adrenaline that broke the story line wide open. We had no idea where the hell it was going, until that one character either opened their mouth or did something so off the damn wall, that we are like “shit can’t go back now”. The second reason this is more than likely true might be because it’s 1:35am with a Gremlin running loose that should have been passed out hours ago, while I’m running on my last damn nerve.
One night… Just one damn night, I would like to go to bed at a decent hour and get the proper amount of sleep to function. One day to wake up and feel like I can take on the day like the bad ass I have been for so damn long. At this point, I think it would put my body into shock if I did though. Though I do wonder if we ever really come out of the toddler mindset phase as Moms. Let me explain.
We eat what’s left or take the “Mom Tax”. We sneak snacks but never actually eat a full meal, if we eat at all. We survive on caffeine, nicotine, and the ability to justify a gas station potato log over the Micky D’s drive thru. We are lucky as hell to keep the goblins alive, happy, (and for people that have more than one) from hurting each other.
And the truly messed-up thing as writers…. Our characters are no different. You either write what you know or what you wish you have/had. Pain, passion, attitude, and even a bit of snark is poured into each character as a foundation we pray won't crack. Well unless it furthers the damn plot or gives them some deeply rooted character development.
Personally, as the vessel these stories pour out of, I’m a little sick and tired of all this damn character development. Like, I’m good for the next 20 damn years on that one. After all, my life is stranger than fiction and most don’t believe half the damn shit I’ve either seen, survived, or accomplished. But here I am as living damn proof, you can rage against the machine, doesn’t mean you're not going to feel the pain from it later in life. Believe me on that one.
But anywho… Back on topic… Panic can sometimes be a great motivator when it comes to personal or literary scenes. Depending on what type of person or character you’re writing, they could be thinking clearer, making decisions based on logic, or they could be running around like their hairs on fire and their asses are catching. See everyone thinks of panic, goes into the fear side of it, and runs off the rails.
That’s not always the way I play out panic. I have one story that I’m currently writing (Female Bronc Rider meets Mafia) which has her saddle being tampered with right before the biggest ride of her life. She knows someone is fucking with her, but doesn’t know who, and unfortunately, can’t prove anything other than the straps have been cut. Panic sets in but she uses that as fuel to keep her fired up.
It's the same way with how a lot of people handle stressful situations. Some can’t. The fear and anxiety shut them down hard. Other’s, well lets just say, we are pros at the pivot. The “well fuck” situations that has us scrambling to pull rabbits out of our asses, has become our norm when it should have never been that way. But here we are.
So, the next time you have a character go rogue, or completely off the damn deep end, remember shit happens. We can barely control the ones we made that are walking around over the ones that live rent free in our heads. Sometimes you have to see how far each one is willing to go. It does make for entertaining shit to have to cut out later if it makes no sense in a day or three.
For those of you that have hung on this long, thank you. I know this probably doesn’t make much sense but if you know you know. Kids like characters are unpredictable. Like the one that is still running around the living room like it's a damn mash pit. I don’t care how tired he is, come 6:50am his butt will be on that bus. He made a choice to stay up and he’ll have to deal with the aftermath of that choice. Not quite as dramatic as the Last Ride on War Cry, but you understand.
Panic, for me right now, is the fact I’m running out of gas, and until my husband walks through that door in hopefully 20 minutes, I have to keep the Gremlin from pulling a vanishing act. Yes, he has done that a time or dozen. Never when it's dark… So, I guess I have an advantage there right now. Pray for my salinity, send supplies, and good humor memes.
Be Brave, Be Bold, But Always Stay Humble.
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