Talking to Myself

I have a confession to make. I talk to myself.

“So?” you say. “Everyone talks to themselves.”

Well, maybe so, but I talk to myself, out loud, ALL THE TIME. In fact the ONLY time I DON’T talk to myself is when other people are there. Mainly because it seems to make everyone uncomfortable.

I started talking to myself when I was a little girl. It was my primary source of entertainment. I’d make up stories and act out parts in the stories – all by myself. I continued my self-talk all the way through school, even college, only stopping when I knew other people were present.

I’m sure I’m going to keep doing it, and if I actually manage to avoid a heart attack before age 50 (unlikely), I think I’m going to be hoot in the nursing home – still talking to myself.

Now, I mostly talk to myself in my characters’ dialogue to see what sounds real. What would a futuristic cop say? What would an 18th century farm girl say? Does it sound real?

Often I entrench myself in my characters and try to think, speak, and act like them to get a better feel of how to write for them. And sometimes they manage to break through into my consciousness.

Case in point - I’ve been working on Bruised for almost a year now. In the beginning, I knew I wanted to have hot, identical teenage twins be the best friends of one of the main characters. I even asked my boss if I could “borrow” her sons’ names for the twins.

They were only supposed to show up occasionally. But the more I wrote, the more they managed to wheedle their way into the story. Now, they’ve become vital to the story line. Don’t ask me how that happened! It’s like they wrote themselves in.

I’m serious.

Currently, I’m working on Sky Seven and have had a tough time figuring out some of the dialogue. Last night, I huddled under my covers and played both of my main characters as they argued about a life-and-death situation.

My rabbits probably think I’m insane.

Of course, this has been one BIG advantage to Brett working third shift. I never talk to myself (well, hardly) when he is around. Because I don’t want him to commit me anywhere. But now that he’s gone the entire night, I’m able to get a lot of “work” done on my stories.

Sometimes I worry about not being able to talk to myself if we ever have kids. I would hate to damage their psyche by talking to myself. Well, more than I’m sure I will have already done just by being me.

I also talk to myself in my car. Thankfully, I think most people assume I’m on a hands-free phone. Hee, hee. I’m not.

I’m just the crazy lady in the lane next you.