November 26th, 2006


(no subject)

Friday night, after an excruciatingly long scrabble game (Avital won), I made it to the sofa and fell asleep. A voice woke me up at 3a.m., but there was no one in the living or dining rooms. I checked the kitchen, still no one. The voice was still in my head, unfamiliar, hence, irritating. My eyes closed, I tried to remember the dream, if there was one, but couldn’t. Only this annoying notion that somehow I missed an important something kept creeping into my sleepy mind. I tried to fall asleep again, and was very close to it, when the voice popped in again: “Do you ever feel truly happy?” Not knowing who to answer, I kept quiet. Suddenly, I knew it was Alex, the main character of my husband’s book. He didn’t look or sound like any Alex I knew. He wasn’t even my type! How can I write a male character who wasn’t my type? That’s not fair!! And who gave him the right to ask me questions?