There are two types of writers…
Writer A: “I’ve fleshed this character out to the point where they’re more real then I am. I know everything about them, including their blood type, their thirty-first favorite song, what they did for their sixth birthday, and which brand of apples they prefer.”
Writer B: “This character exists as a full person in my head, but I know absolutely nothing about them. Once I forced them to talk about themselves, and they simultaneous lied about their past and told me accurate trivia facts I don’t remember learning.”
May I suggest Writer C:
This character goes through phases like the moon. Their hair and eye color shift every week. Their hobbies? Every hour. ‘When did you become an expert chef? Why are you watching soap operas? Weren’t you taller yesterday?’ you ask them. The character smiles sweetly, acquires a new catchphrase, and flips you off.
Writer D: “I only ever created you as a throwaway. Where did you get all this personality from? What is your great-grandmother doing here? Exactly WHY does everyone in the known galaxy groan whenever you say “trust me”? Put down those murder ducklings, I’m talking to you!”
Writer E: “I have so many well-developed characters and I’m proud of them all, they are my children but hOLY FUCK DO I NEED TO STOP ACCIDENTALLY FAVORING LIKE 3 OF YOU WHEN I HAVE LIKE 30 OTHERS.”
Published
Penhales 