We have six arms, four heads- the more to think with-, beady dark eyes covered by the sagging thought lines etched into our foreheads and we slouch from all the time we spend hunched over our computers. Of course this sounds like something more if a character in a book and not the writer. In reality, a writer is anyone. We aren't monsters, we just nurse them inside our head until our skulls crack open from the pain of birthing such a creature.
And as we birth the creature, spewing them forth onto paper, nurturing
them until they are grown, there are more underneath the skin waiting
for their time. And when one idea is done it becomes like a hydra and no
matter how many times we try and kill one head another one grows,
spawning a sequel or a whole series. So really as writers we are gods,
gods of our own world where we control life and death. It is a power trip
and one that can become addicting until the inhabitants of your world
decide to rise up and take you prisoner and then the writer becomes
their worse nightmare.
That is when the writer becomes stuck in a bathrobe, trolling the house
in slippers and staring at the keyboard and blank computer screen
because writer's block has taken over or there is no coffee on the house
to be found.
But when the prison riots are done and the writer is once freed up
again, they are crazed to get back to what they know. All I can say from
that point on, is watch out. You never know if you will end up the
victim of an author's trade and become cannon fodder.
All I can advise is don't get on the author's bad side no matter what
the author looks like of what you think an author looks like because,
really, we are all authors writing our own story.
Don't you agree?