Disclaimer: I mixed two different teas tonight: Sleepy Time Extra and Tension Tamer. I need a little of both. So, yeah, I'm a little tired. But in the imaginary sitting room, the sun is shining and stuff. But if I ever called characters in for an interview, this is probably what it would go like:
I invited my imaginary protagonists to my imaginary future living room. Nathan Drans and Naren Aerys. I called them in for an interview. To better understand my characters.Naren and Nathan are both looking at the bookhelves, looking for something of interest to read.
Me: Gentlemen! We have an interview to do here. You can look at all that later.
Naren and Nathan both obediently come sit down on the sofa. They are very different people. I think the only thing theys have in common are that they're my characters and that they're smart.
Me: So, what are your problems, respectively?
Nathan: I wasn't aware this was therapy.
Naren: I was black-mailed. I survived something I wasn't supposed to. I haven't seen my girlfriend in over a year... [pointed look] Do I really need to continue?
Naren's a good few years older than Nathan--sort of. Nathan's character is older, but Naren has existed in my mind longer--if that makes sense. The point is, Naren knows what to expect.
Nathan: [to Naren] All that?
Naren: [nods]
Nathan: [to me] It's going to get worse for me, isn't it?
I say nothing, of course. If he knew it was coming, where would be the fun in that?
Naren half-smiles. He knows. As I've said before.
I smile at Naren: Why don't you tell him all you've been through?
Naren: In the first...3 drafts, right?--the story was about Kamra--my girlfriend, er, fiancee. When Ms. Author realized I was more interesting, she made me the main character. But she kept most of my backstory. I lost my parents. I had a stutter. I had an older bastard brother that none of us knew about--
Nathan: How is that bad? The last part?
Naren: [shakes head] It's not. Don't interrupt. Ms. Author never lets me talk that much.
Me: That's because you have a succint personality.
Naren: I'll pretend that didn't offend me.
Nathan: Naren? What were you saying now?
Naren: When I was five, I was bitten by a troll and had been subjected to a heavy amount of troll venom until I was sixteen. That first bite made my second-sight manifest prematurely. My mentor--a trapped angel--married my older brother. They had a child. I thought I was going to have a happy bachelorhood, but I wound up with a washed-up--literally, their boat capsized and by some hand of fate, they made it to shore--older couple. The husband dies. I adore Widow Parveen, but that kind of cuts into happy bachelorhood. And then, two years later the aforementioned child is forced upon me to raise--although I do love my niece, otherwise I couldn't have been blackmailed.
Nathan: That is a lot.
Naren: A lot of inconveniences, perhaps not real problems. I wish I had died when I caught the Pestilence has swept through.
Me: Shut up, Naren. If you had died then, there would be no book.
Naren: [to Nathan] I've been through a few drafts. Things change. Not all of that was in draft 1. Draft 1, I was actually normal. By draft 2 million, I've been turned into a Lord Death impersonating, reserved, estranged Prince. Oh, and whoever heard of a prince having an occupation other than preparing to take the throne? I make weapons for a living. Although, Ms. Author arranged for me to have more money than what I would usually have.
Nathan: At least she made you well off. I'm broke.
Naren: My apologies, sir.
Nathan: [to me] How many drafts will I get?
Naren: However many it takes until she's happy with it.
Nathan: Well, I'm only what, 20-something pages into my story?
Naren: [to me, actually smiling--he never smiles] About time for you to start over, Ms. Author?
Nathan: But it just started!
Naren: It doesn't matter.
I remember my intended goal.
Me: Gentlemen! I have more questions! Please. And I'll have you know, Naren Blaise Aerys, that I have planned out Nathan's story very well. I actually know what I'm doing.
Naren: That's a first for you.
It wasn't a question. It was a statement. I don't let that deter me though.
I look down at my list of questions I wanted to ask. They seem so insignificant after Naren and Nathan's conversation a moment ago.
Me: This isn't on my list.
But it's something I gotta know.
Me: What do you want?
Nathan: To be better off financially. Money can't buy happiness, but I think I could be more comfortable at least. It would be one less problem.
I thought it would be so. But I intend to change that throughout the course of the book. But he doesn't know that.
Naren doesn't answer. Not that he needs to. I'm pretty sure about what he wants. I think he wants normalcy. Period. He wants to be happily married to Kamra--and he has been in a draft, but he doesn't remember that ;-)--and perhaps have a bunch of kids. Sure, parenthood would be chaos, but I think we both know Naren would prefer that kind of chaos.
Me: Goodnight, gentlemen. This did not go as planned at all, but it's been interesting. I'll see you on the computer. Well, kind of.
Naren: Goodnight, Ms. Author.
Naren actually has the decency to hug me.
Nathan: Goodnight. I have to go back to my terrible life with a crazy lady.
Naren: Shut up.
Both protogonists fade and disappear. The whole thing's been odd. Goodnight.
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