So, as instructed by writing experts, I have developed my characters. Did it about a year ago. So for awhile now, my characters have been waiting on me. They each have a name, a family, issues in their past, likes, dislikes, personality traits, goals/aspirations. They each come with an elaborate backstory (which I’ll have to weave in) as they each make their personal debut.
So my characters sit and wait. Like on the set for a movie, siting in costume, waiting to step into their respective roles. They’re bored. I imagine my protagonist male character lying on his back on a bench, one leg hanging off, the right forearm covering his eyes. The characters at his scene have small-talked ad nauseam. They have nothing to talk about except what has already been scripted for them. The only thing they have in common with each other is the storyline I created.
There they sit, on the set, stuck at a scene, waiting for the director (me) to deliver their next lines. I haven’t done so in weeks. Writer’s block?? I don’t know what that is, because I’d hoped it would never apply to me.
By the way, the setting where they wait is in rural Louisiana, where it’s hot and steamy. Agonizingly uncomfortable. Some have loosened their costumes, and kicked off their shoes. Those who have a part near the fetid swamp have to endure it, because at any time, I might pick up that section and edit it. I expect them to jump up and resume their positions in the scenes. I might waver them back and forth for awhile. Take them this way, then no, that way. But they tolerate it. All the time. They’re my characters.
I do care for them, my patiently-waiting characters. My men- and ladies-in-waiting. I haven’t forgotten them. They are relying on me to come around. So, I will. Stay tuned.