Contradiction in Terms

I’m a hopeless romantic trapped in the body of a pessimist. How did that happen? In truth, i don’t know. Maybe, I’ve become jaded due to experiences in my life. Maybe I’ve seen how completely screwed up people can really be. But a part of me, that innocent, hopeful part, still falls in love far too easily. Still thinks about her childhood sweetheart. Still daydreams about romantic encounters.

It’s why I became a writer. 😀 Ha, ha. Free therapy, baby. Can’t beat that.

I think it’s this contradiction that makes me an interesting writer. Honestly, I don’t ever plan so far ahead that I know for sure where my characters will land. I just hope for the best and take them one step at a time. I’m a bit of a pantster and a chpt by chpt plotter. So sometimes, the actions surprise me just as much as the characters! In the end though, there’s that part of me that fights for them, even after I’ve totally screwed up their lives. I want them to succeed. To have all of their dreams and desires. I just want to make them suffer a bit too. It’s the masochist in me. 😉

To go with this theme about why we write what we write, today’s DWQ #5:

Books let us into their souls and lay open to us the secrets of our own. ~William Hazlitt

Hope you’re all having a lovely weekend!

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2 responses to “Contradiction in Terms

  1. I love the quote! Oh boy, no way could I stay on deviant art – too many pretties to look at. I’d really never get anything written. LOL! Hope you’re having a good writing weekend. 🙂

    (Now to try and tear myself away from Neopets long enough to do something constructive!)

  2. I’m a wannabe Michelanglo trapped in the body of a person with the artistic ability of someone that needs a website to Simpsonize. I’m pessimisstic about deviantART. That site depressess me. I see all those wonderful images and think that I suck. I need therapy.

    Sound like a writer?

    LOL.

    I enjoyed this post. Actually, I like sites like that where I can look at art. And, as for being a hopeless romantic. I like writing and reading in part because all the screwed up things about chracters get resolved. A month or so back at work, I was walking past a woman on her cell phone. She was screaming at her boyfriend something about…. When was it my birthday? Yeah. Six weeks ago. Did I get flowers? Chocolates? Anything? If you don’t have a present for me by the time I get home, you can move your BLEEP out.

    I was thinking something like … she should read romance.

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