I've been bitching rather a lot about my inability to write lately. It's back. And this is where the delusional part comes in.
What kind of weirdball nuts are we writer-types anyway when the RETURN of the voices in your head indicate that things are back on track? There are at least 6 characters babbling at me in my daily showers now (yeah, I think in the shower, that's my excuse for staying in there so long if my roommates ask...), and while it's getting a wee bit cacophonous, I seriously don't mind one bit. A few of them are old friends, making a visit to impart some new insight they had while they were away; at least one is new and I have NO CLUE what to do with her yet, but whatever, that'll come eventually I suppose; a couple are REALLY old and they seem to have moved on with their lives in the interim so I guess they'll need a new setting (I left off with them in grad school, but one of them seems to have a kid now - where'd THAT come from???).
I'm not schizo, I know I'm not... these are all perfectly normal, I've talked to enough other writers that I know full well that having characters take on lives of their own happens all the time and it means things are generally going well, though it's a little hard sometimes on a control freak like I can be to discover that they just won't BEHAVE. Kind of like my cats, actually.
I wonder if THEY have voices in their heads too. How else can you explain the midnight (okay, so last night it was at 2 AM) crazies? Seriously, I give the cat a treat and the next thing I know he's a wide-eyed, ears-back ball of fluffy rampage rocketing around the room. Really, Durwen? Did you have to knock ALL the movies off the bed? I was going to watch one. Fenny would never do that. (Who's Fenny?) Oh, Fenny's Claire's cat. (Who's Claire?) Oh, she's one of the voices in my head...