 |
| We writers are an odd lot. |
My
husband puts up with a lot.
He’ll
be the first to tell you that living with a writer is, shall we say, different.
He knows writers are a strange lot. We can be physically present but mentally
light years (or centuries) away. While it may appear that we’re talking to
ourselves, if you ask us, we’ll deny it.
“Oh no, I’m not talking to myself. It’s the characters in my head who are talking. I’m just moderating the discussion.” Uh, yeah, I think there’s medication for that.
“Oh no, I’m not talking to myself. It’s the characters in my head who are talking. I’m just moderating the discussion.” Uh, yeah, I think there’s medication for that.
