So, Mate and I were watching TV tonight and I had a sudden urge to talk about a book I turned in a month ago.
Yeah, right? I don’t do this often, because as proud of I am of what I do for a living, I also tend not to inflict my imaginary people on my loved ones, because I’m very aware that once I do, I don’t stop. I do this in public, too–if you hear me plotting out loud and suddenly I get all tongue-tied and blushy it’s sheer self-consciousness. I’d just as soon drop the finished version on everybody’s plate and run away and very carefully only look at the good things you have to say about it. But sometimes, sometimes, I HAVE to talk about my imaginary people and this was one of those times.
So I open my mouth to tell Mate about the character arc of Kell, a secondary character in Beneath the Stain and Paint it Black, and how proud I was that Kellogg James had a lot of character growth when Mate shifted in the couch across from me and grimaced.
“I twisted my balls. I went to cross my legs and there’s not as much thigh gap as there used to be. Ouch.”
I opened my mouth and closed it and we both started that insidious laughter, the kind that snorts between your tongue and your palate and that won’t stop.
“It happens!” he explained. “It’s like, they sag low, and pretty soon you’re sitting on them!”
I can only make sounds at this point. And we sit for a moment, snickering, and he says, “They get tangled! That’s something that doesn’t make it into your books!”
And I manage, “Every time you open your mouth something more wonderful comes out!”
And we”re stuck again, not able to breathe.
Finally, I say, “You know, you can talk about this all night long and it still won’t stop me from talking about imaginary people!”
“I know!” he howls and we’re gone.
The kids come in and ask us what’s so funny, and we can’t. We just can’t.
I finally get around to telling him about Kell and his wonderful plot arc, but I just keep thinking about “That’s something that doesn’t make it into your books!”