An Unusual Relationship

So I’ve been spending some time with this guy.

Really nice, likable. He’s fun to be with, and totally smart. Did I mention good-looking? Yeah. He’s all that. The thing is, I’ve been aware of him for five years—but I still can’t say that I really know him.

It’s not his fault. He’s not trying to be evasive or distant. He’s just…quiet. Doesn’t talk about himself much, doesn’t reveal his deeper emotions.

Then, too, he’s coming off a relationship that hurt. I know the basics of what happened, so there’s really nothing more to be said about it. But even though he’s moved on, he still thinks about her, whether he means to or not.

I respect that; but I want to know more. I like him so much, I want to know everything there is to know about him.

I even went so far as to learn about the business he’s in, to see if I could get a clue to what makes him tick. All that taught me was that he’s really good at what he does. I mean, I presumed that, so it’s nice to have confirmation. He’s a genius, yay.

But that doesn’t help with the coffee shop conversation.

Pleasant, friendly, good with kids. Those are nice Prince Charming qualities. But they’re surface qualities. I can’t believe that this is all there is—that there’s nothing else deep inside him. Caring, strong…yes, that’s deeper. But not specific. What makes him happy? What does he want out of life? If I were to ask him that, he’d say, “Spend time with my family, succeed at my business. Travel, later on.” Well, yes, but—Who? In what way? Where? Help me out, here.

I can’t help feeling that if I just sit down with him and spend more time listening, I’ll learn what I need to know. That at some point, he will begin to trust me enough to share everything with me. But that day is not today.

Do you want to know the worst part of this?

He’s not real.

As in, he does not exist.

Allow me to introduce you to my Imaginary Friend: Jeff Barrister, the protagonist of my mystery novel.

This guy drives me nuts.

An Unusual Relationship

I love when I get a chance to talk with other writers, because it makes me realize I’m not the only one whose characters have a mind of their own. It’s an unusual experience—you can’t make one do something they don’t want to do; and if you don’t know them well enough, you can’t make them do anything at all. At least, not convincingly.

As a trade-off, there’s the wonderful challenge of bringing a character to life. When you get it right, it’s worth the months, even years, that it often takes to get to know someone.

Writing this, I had a sudden realization.

I can’t help feeling that…at some point, he will begin to trust me enough to share everything with me.

Holy cow—I wonder if that’s the clue I needed? The Rosewood House is book one of a series. So, maybe I don’t need to know everything about Jeff right now. Maybe I’ll get to know him better as time goes by.

Okay. I’m cool with that.