Too long have my blogs gone empty, but now that the dark days of menopause seem to have passed just as Europe’s feudal system rose from the dark void of Rome’s demise, I am happy to report that I am again hearing voices, yes, the schizophrenia of fiction writing has returned in full Dolby surround sound and with all the crisp Technicolor of a blue ray peacock.

And that said, I will share the absolute delight I receive when I am happily writing away, engrossed with my beloved characters in medieval Connacht, Ireland, when a conversation will progress onto subjects and about things I didn’t know until my characters surprised me with their insight and candor, my fingers gaily typing away as fast as possible so I know what will happen next. Does anyone else do that? Seriously, isn’t this normal for fiction writing? Or is this why I find myself continually in new dilemmas for my characters to over come, just so I can find the thread of theme I thought I wished to explore?

Is there any more joy in writing than having a total stranger walk out of the woods (literally in my case), into a scene with a voice and presence so enigmatic and engaging that you have to laugh at the absurdity, and write all the more to try and figure out who, what, when, how and why. I just wanted to say: “Who the hell are you and why have you barged in on my story?” Turns out this particular character helped propel my story, getting me back on track, keeping it true to the theme, while enchanting me with the wonder of my mental stability. This guy was not to be denied, luckily my other characters like him too.

Please tell me I’m not alone in this. Isn’t this where the inspiration and stories come from? Jean Auel heard a voice, felt a character, someone who was ‘Other’, didn’t fit in, launching Ms. Auel on a quest to discover who she was, where and when she lived, and ultimately delivered to us the Children of the Earth Series, with all the grandeur and magnitude of the Ice Age.

Another favorite author, Diana Gabaldon, was lead on a bonny quest to unravel the complicated time traveling lives of Claire and Jaime all because she was intrigued by a kilt wearing character on the vintage Dr. Who series. Who indeed, would have thought such an episode could have lead to the whole Rising of ’45 to our own Revolutionary War, with more details and intrigues than I even remember.

I don’t know if James Clavell suffered this affliction or not. I can only wonder.

There it is, I have no secrets, maybe not so funny as the honest woman on a You Tube post, but I’m not ashamed to admit I hear voices, and as long as they don’t direct me to live under a bridge --- wait, they are encouraging me to research the Pilgrim’s Way to Canterbury --- I think I will be alright.