When characters go bad...

Okay, this is weird. I want to know how many writers have had this happen.

I'm working on chapter three of my sequel. Well, actually finishing up chapter two. Like the Orca at Sea world, my main male character is not behaving. He's been pissed off in every scene, forcing me into rewrites. It's odd. I'm the fricken writer and yet he's dictating how I write him. So, last night I was finishing up a scene where he's doped up on Laudanum and whiskey and he announces in front of his wife's family that he doesn't want to be married. WTH? I rewrote it and the same thing came out.

So, I began doing an exercise from a writing book where you start interviewing your character. It's suppose to help you get to know them a little better. So, I start off interviewing him for his hopes and dreams and he tells me that he wants to go back to fort Laramie and leave his wife either here or with Hazel Henderson back in Cheyenne. I was floored.

First off I didn't even know Hazel lived in Cheyenne. I've never established her residence, but he has. Second, I tell her he can't leave her that they're married now. He retorts by telling me that I should know he never wanted to to get married, he's said that all along and now he's saddled with his second wife when he never wanted the first one. He goes on to tell me he married out of duty and now he wants out. And do it quickly before she gets pregnant. So, I asked him if he loves her. He says yes, but and when he's around her he can't think right. And then get this crap. He doesn't feel a man is a man when their heads are all muddled with thoughts of love, that his beautiful wife strips him of his power, of his anger, that he doesn't feel like himself anymore.

By this time I'm having a full on convo with the guy. I tell him that she's going to be hurt if you just up and leave. The bastard shrugged. He says he doesn't want children and she's trying to get pregnant. Plus, he's hiding some secret that if she knew, she would have never married him in the first place. What secret? I never gave you a secret!

Who does this guy think he is?

Well, I have to go back now and try to figure out what the hell is his problem so I can move onto my outline.

Good Golly Molly

I broke up my day of researching sutures and surgery/medicine from post Civil War era to go to a baby shower this afternoon. I was so into my quest to find information about ether and the use of Chloroform that I worked past the time I was nearly due to leave. As always, I hadn't bought the gift yet or the card. Still thinking of my coming scene in chapter two, I rushed to the store to pick up a card and some wrapping. I buy a cute card and decide on gift cards to a baby store.

I don't know about you, but I can never write anything worthwhile on a card. Some people write these great touching words that bring a tear to ones eye. Not me. Here I am a writer but put a card in front of me and I suddenly can't spell or remember the persons name I'm writing to. I think secretly people all long to come up with a saying on a card that is so terrific that the present is forgotten, the card passed around so other's could read the brilliance of your words.

Case in point. Here I am, already late, sitting in my car outside the store, pen in hand, gift wrapped and pen poised. I blank. Come on, come on, I tap the pen against my steering wheel. Come on, just write something! Anything!

Molly, I write...

Okay, got her name down, spelled correctly, looks nice as well. Okay, she's having a baby, say something about the baby. So, what do I write? what wonderful, inspired sweet, touching thing could I come up with?

Hope she's beautiful. What?! I wrote that on her fricken baby shower card? I stare at it. I can't believe I wrote that. Hope she's beautiful? I might as well have written "hope she's not butt ugly." "Hope she doesn't make people gag." "Hope she doesn't look like your husband."

I'm so late I contemplate just leaving it and hope my friend has a sense of humor. Not about her baby she won't, not bloody likely. With a big sigh, I toss it onto my passenger seat and head back inside for another card. I'm still thinking about how to rework my scene as I run back out to my car again.

This time I play it safe. I merely write her name at the top, date it and sign my name at the bottom. I stick it in the envelope, seal it and write her name on the card, done. If I can drive 80 on the freeway I won't be too terribly late.
As I'm driving there, the lime green envelope next to me catches my eye. I look at the card addressed to Katy. Katy? Who the hell is Katy? Damn it! I wrote my characters name on the damn card.

Sigh. I'm not buying another card, not at three or four dollars a pop. Maybe she won't notice. Going through so many presents and cards, she'll just pick mine up and open it without realize the name on the card isn't hers. Not even close.

I worry about it through the entire drive, coming up with elaborate scenarios to explain away the wrong name if asked. As it turned out. No one asked, I spend the whole afternoon way in the back talking with friends. When she got to my gift, she opens the card, reads it and then very loudly thanked "Judy" for the gift.

Jeesh. Doesn't she know my name is Julie?