I am a romantic sap. I like to think that I temper my romanticism with the appropriate amount of realism and rationality. But come down to it, and I am a romantic at heart. This is, I fear, rather evident in my stories; each of my characters eventually ends up paired off with another. Even when I’ve told them “I expect this to remain Platonic!” I turn around to find they’ve been making out behind my back. And then I really don’t have the
willpower heart to separate them.
So, if two characters have for some time been resisting my best efforts to set them up together, you’d think I’d get the point, right? They don’t want to be together. Well, he doesn’t. She’s been in love with him since I introduced the two of them a few years ago.
Part of what makes writing so fun is creating characters that feel real enough that you can wind them up and let them go. They make their own decisions, in a certain sense, because some actions just feel consistent (or not) with how you’ve envisioned them. So part of what makes writing frustrating (apart from that bit were you have to apply elbow grease) is when your characters just won’t do what you think they should.
As aforementioned, I am not a writer with a lot of willpower. Are there times when you need to be stronger than the original, limited vision of a character? Or is this a sign of growing authorial maturity, that I find I am discontent with forcing a developing character to conform to a two-dimensional, static story form? Ah, I fear only time and further practice will help me tell the difference. Still, I am getting the sinking feeling that this is a case of the latter. Hum. Though, really, the true moral of this story is simply that I need to devote more practice time to my fiction. I’m just so darn distra–Hey, look, giant robots!