Every author has at least one kid. Of course, many of them literally do. But even the youngest do, since each story, forged so perfectly by each artist's hands, is a child. A sense of maternal (or paternal) passion is developed as each word is typed or written or even scribbled, an emotional attachment to this particular string of events. Some mothers or fathers even fall in love with the characters they're written of, or they become better friends with them than their real-life acquaintances. After all, they do know everything about them.
I was working on my latest screenplay, The Art of Peace, when one of my characters approached me.
"Mother, May I please have strength?"
The assured yet somehow broken voice was a type of melody to me; I felt suddenly uplifted by the sound. I turned, finding my main character standing in front of me.
"Evelyn, you're already strong. You're different than the other girls in Lorin." I protested, finding her plea strange.
"Mother, you've portrayed me strangely so far. I need my inner strength." She defended, pointing to the screen of my laptop. "Look there, I'm crying already."
"That's your character development," I explained. "And you've lost your father. It's reasonable."
"So I'm...emotionally unstable?" Evelyn asked, slightly confused.
"You won't be soon," I hinted. "Soon, you'll be going on huge adventures, trying to prevent further loss for your family."
Evelyn's face brightened. "Adventure? And saving my family?" I nodded. "Ooh, I do love that."
"See? You've just got to be patient, as Lauren says." I smiled.
"Did you seriously just quote another character? My younger sister?" Evelyn laughed.
"I guess I did!" I chuckled. "Now get back into the story. I've got to get you to leave so you can start those adventures."
Evelyn gave me a slight nod. "Thank you, Mother."
I nodded back, gesturing to my screenplay. I needed to get that character development going. Otherwise Evelyn would be back, or worse, a different character gone bad.