My daughter is a bundle of teen-aged angst, torn black knee highs, black eyeliner and ghost-pancake. But in a sideways, manga-Morticia way, she looks good.
She told me that the boy she was interested in acted like a jerk around her, and I--of course, pointed out he was feeling intimidated, yet attracted, and expressed his attraction to her by being obnoxious.
'cause I'm a writer, I said. I create people. People-person, will write? Naw, more like trait-collector, behavior specialist--will psychoanalyze you at the drop of a dime. Low-rent, underpaid variant on a therapist/slash/psychologist.
I write mannerisms down and annoy the hell out of everyone. It's no joke that given a little time I can see the motivation behind what people do. I have to consciously turn it off, like a psychic trying to shut out the noise. It's easy to treat real-life like a book after so much time down in the trenches.
"Honestly, sweetie. It's because when you're around him, he wants to talk to you, but he's afraid of sounding stupid, and if you say something to him, he'll pretend not to care, but really on the inside, what he wants is--"
...maybe just a few too many books on character-building.
4 comments:
Yeah. You know 'em both pretty much femur-to-liver because that's a writer's job. (Woo, you!)
But she's still gotta figgure it out for herself, Mom.
God, I do that too. The worst is when I make up stuff for my dogs, who obviously are not people, but my male (I have also have two females) is like a romance novel hero except in canine form. He's got those striking eyes, he's really muscular, sensitive but tough and he has emotional issues. I make up little romances between him and my one female as well as my sister's dog and my friend's dog. It's sad. and ridiculous. But fun!
LMAO!!!!! I think I started writing so I'd STOP doing this with everyone in my life.
It's not healthy for me. I start assigning motives that aren't there. Though a little knowledge of human nature can make book characters a little more believable.
I love this, Cup.
I'm learning not to say so much of what I think/see. People want to beat you with clubs when they realize you're *observing* them.
*go Mom!*
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