Do Your Characters Live In Your Head?

madelinemasoch

Masoch's 2nd Cumming
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Do you ever talk to your own characters in your head? Do you ever have unpleasant conversations/interactions with them? I draw a lot on the visuals in my head, and sometimes they get outside of my own control... I won't put the darkness behind the scenes on open display, but don't you ever feel like your characters are in like a tenuous relationship with you?

Feel free to ask me more about it, but I need some kind of kinship in this.
 
Do you ever talk to your own characters in your head? Do you ever have unpleasant conversations/interactions with them? I draw a lot on the visuals in my head, and sometimes they get outside of my own control... I won't put the darkness behind the scenes on open display, but don't you ever feel like your characters are in like a tenuous relationship with you?

Feel free to ask me more about it, but I need some kind of kinship in this.
No. But it sounds like fun.
I like your phrase "I need some kind of kinship in this." I feel the same way about some of my own, apparently unique, experiences. I say I'm "looking for likeminded people."
 
Do you ever talk to your own characters in your head? Do you ever have unpleasant conversations/interactions with them? I draw a lot on the visuals in my head, and sometimes they get outside of my own control... I won't put the darkness behind the scenes on open display, but don't you ever feel like your characters are in like a tenuous relationship with you?

Feel free to ask me more about it, but I need some kind of kinship in this.
Well there was that one time I tried these mushrooms... :)

Seriously, not really. When I'm writing, I do put myself into my characters, imaging myself in their place. I feel it helps with making them more relatable and the story more real. AS real as the kind of fiction I write can be, anyway.
 
My stories live in my head. I wish my characters did - that would suggest a level of fullness to them that I don't think I've achieved. The closest I come is random 'eureka' moments, where I've stopped thinking of my characters and story altogether, until I get a flash of just knowing that they wouldn't do X or Y, they'd do A or B instead.
 
My characters live in my head too, and get up to all sorts of crazy shenanigans. I’m hoping some of it will come out again soon. We’ll see.
 
Yes, all the time. Of course they’re in my head when I’m writing about them, but also when I’m not, like being out for a walk or at the supermarket. I’ll hear or see something and up pops this or that character giving me their take on it. We often agree, but it’s funny when we don’t. I especially love it when they appear while fantasizing about one thing or another: they love pushing the envelope, if you know what I mean.
 
My main character lives in my head and is permanently frustrated because the rubbish that I write doesn't come close to portraying who she is and how she feels.
 
My main character lives in my head and is permanently frustrated because the rubbish that I write doesn't come close to portraying who she is and how she feels.
I guess I could claim that, too. But in my case it's called dysphoria. :)
 
In all honesty I should clarify that I'm having personal issues with this kind of thing. I feel like I used to have perfect control of the stories and their construction but now I don't. I feel like the character has outgrown my mind and simultaneously my mind has outgrown the character. Not in the sense that we're drifting apart but that we're in grave danger of doing so! I'm freaking out inside. I did something to her that wasn't very nice.
 
In all honesty I should clarify that I'm having personal issues with this kind of thing. I feel like I used to have perfect control of the stories and their construction but now I don't. I feel like the character has outgrown my mind and simultaneously my mind has outgrown the character. Not in the sense that we're drifting apart but that we're in grave danger of doing so! I'm freaking out inside. I did something to her that wasn't very nice.
So you're worried that you are going to break up with the character in your head? That's going to be awkward, since they probably don't have any other place to live.

It's starting to sound like a Loving Wives story.
 
Do you ever talk to your own characters in your head? Do you ever have unpleasant conversations/interactions with them? I draw a lot on the visuals in my head, and sometimes they get outside of my own control... I won't put the darkness behind the scenes on open display, but don't you ever feel like your characters are in like a tenuous relationship with you?

Feel free to ask me more about it, but I need some kind of kinship in this.
YESSSS, god yes! Sometimes, when I'm really rolling on a story, they won't shut up. I'll be trying to sleep, and they're dialoging all freaking night.

I tend to write first person, and I get really deep into my main character. Sometimes it feels more like acting than writing.
 
I will say some do take on a life of their own, their feelings take on a life of their own. That, in turn drives my writing sometimes. I have one female character that would jump at the chance at a MMF. So I wrote it for her. Yeah sounds weird.
 
I will say some do take on a life of their own, their feelings take on a life of their own. That, in turn drives my writing sometimes. I have one female character that would jump at the chance at a MMF. So I wrote it for her. Yeah sounds weird.
Doesn't sound weird to me at all.
 
That happened to me once, when I was writing a serious screenplay. I dreamed my character a lot too at the time.
But with my current writing, the emotional depth is pretty shallow.

A screenwriter I lived with used to talk to himself a lot when he was writing dialog - basically acting out conversations. I do that with my stories sometimes. But I most of the characters are "they" - I'm sort of observing them rather than empathising deeply with them.
 
I might write up and post an excerpt of the interaction I had with her (within myself, or otherwise, however it works). Just to see what other people think of it. I felt horrible afterwards and it wasn't fun.
 
I approve. Go ahead. Maybe it'd be good.
"Maddie, I'm trying to sleep. Get out of my head."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that? I live here. Where else am I going to go?"

"You live in a fourth floor walkup downtown. Go there or something."

"I can't go there, except when you're sitting in front of your computer. Then I can go home for a while."

Maddy was pissed, and I gave up on sleep, for a while at least. She had her arms folded across her chest. "What do you want me to do?" I asked her rhetorically.

"Get me an elevator, for one."

"I can't do that. Continuity."

"Continuity schmontinuity. And quit making me say lame crap like that. At least let me break up with George. He's a creepy old man. I don't know why you get off on that shit."

"Only two more chapters."

"Uggh. Whatever. You know what his dick smells like? Eww."

"No, and neither do you. How could you, if I don't?"

"Fine. So what's next? Fucked in the ass by a 12 inch black dick? A gangbang at a frat and getting covered in a gallon of cum?"

I couldn't help grinning at her. "I've got a few ideas."

"Fuck! I don't want to know. But I have my limits."

"Not unless I tell you to have them."

She gave me a look that made my balls shrivel. A chill went through me.

"We'll see," she said.
 
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"Maddie, I'm trying to sleep. Get out of my head."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that? I live here. Where else am I going to go?"

"You live in a fourth floor walkup downtown. Go there or something."

"I can't go there, except when you're sitting in front of your computer. Then I can go home for a while."

Maddy was pissed, and I gave up on sleep, for a while at least. She had her arms folded across her chest. "What do you want me to do?" I asked her rhetorically.

"Get me an elevator, for one."

"I can't do that. Continuity."

"Continuity schmontinuity. And quit making me say lame crap like that. At least let me break up with George. He's a creepy old man. I don't know why you get off on that shit."

"Only two more chapters."

"Uggh. Whatever. You know what his dick smells like? Eww."

"No, and neither do you. How could you, if I don't."

"Fine. So what's next? Fucked in the ass by a 12 inch black dick? A gangbang at a frat and getting covered in a gallon of cum?"

I couldn't help grinning at her. "I've got a few ideas."

"Fuck! I don't want to know. But I have my limits."

"Not unless I tell you to have them."

She gave me a look that made my balls shrivel. A chill went through me.

"We'll see," she said.
I didn't know you'd take it there but I like it.
 
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