Conversation with my characters
Juggling between photography and writing has its advantages. When my photos get comments like this: “You have a ten ass”, I can answer like this:
Everyone, meet Zoe Dark, the hero of my upcoming urban fantasy novel! And the cat, the feline hero! They always help cheer me up, and believe me, even someone with a ten ass needs that every now and then.
ME: Oh! I’d be much better off if my writing skills were rated a 10.
ZOE DARK: If it’s any consolation, I think your writing skills are a ten. You created me and made me the hero of your novel. Gave me a bit of a temper, but I won’t hold that against you because you gave me a nice ass. And a Vespa instead of a car. You can’t get very far on a vespa in Houston, you know. Are you an environmentalist or something?
ME: It could have been worse. I could have made you walk everywhere.
ZOE DARK: You can’t get very far in Houston if you walk.
ME: Yes, I know. I live there. But you don’t really need a car to get around, do you? You can turn into a panther, or a wolf, or whatever you want…
ZOE DARK: Really? Whatever I want? I thought I can only turn into animals with fangs.
ME: For now. You’ll learn more in the sequel.
THE CAT: If you choose a body like mine, you’d be much better off.
ZOE DARK: What are you doing here? Listen here, cat, this is girl talk, so get lost. And for your information, I like my body. Did you really have to write him in the story, Misty? He stalks me everywhere.
ME: I thought you were a little upset, so I gave you him as a little moral support. Cats are great lap warmers and they’re wise.
THE CAT: Do you hear that, Zoe? I’m wise, which isn’t something that can be said about you.
ZOE DARK: You really are getting on my nerves.
THE CAT: (ignoring Zoe Dark) Let me impart some of my wisdom to you, Misty. There are worse things than being told you have a ten ass.
ME: Yeah? Like what?
THE CAT: Being an ass.
ZOE DARK: Look, cat, stop acting so smug and superior. Are you even a cat? Cats don’t do what you do. What are you?
THE CAT: Ah, I know what I am. But you don’t.
ME: Guys, come on, calm down. Cat, don’t be so hard on Zoe. This is a journey of self-discovery for her.
THE CAT: This is no journey. You two are sitting around talking about ass. What’s this silly preoccupation with the ass among you, humans?
ME and ZOE DARK shrug in unison.
MISS MARPLE: This is very interesting. All the different things people say and think…
THE CAT: Hey, old pussy, I hope you realize I’m a cat.
MISS MARPLE: Yes, indeed, my little furry fellow. And yet, so human. Oh, dear me! What was I saying? Oh, yes! …It’s all so complex, so trivial, and if one thing isn’t trivial, it’s so hard to spot which one isn’t.
THE CAT: You’re totally batty, but sweet. I like you. If you had a body like mine, you could be the super of all old pussies.
ZOE DARK: Oh, hey, Miss Marple, would you mind meeting my mom? She’s a private investigator, and she’s really tough, and cool, and she’s a great fan. She’d love to meet you.
ME: What? No, she wouldn’t. Zoe, stop talking for the writer. Look, guys, don’t you all have murders to solve? Why don’t you all go inside your respective books, and let me finish my story.
ZOE DARK to MISS MARPLE: Come. Miss Marple. I’ll tell you who the biggest ass in my story is.