It’s after 1 in the morning. I’m still up. I finished writing more than an hour ago, but I can’t possibly go to sleep.
You see, I just killed a character.
I knew this was going to happen; I knew this person would die in the third book long before I’d even finished the first. It’s important. It’s necessary. And — as you might guess in a book about vampires — it’s also not the end.
That doesn’t change the fact that I feel intensely guilty right now.
Forgive me, character I cannot name in public! I swear this is for the best.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to lie down with my head under a pillow.
LOL, great. Now when I read the book I’m going to be placing bets on who eats it.
I’m sure it’s for the good of the tale! You haven’t steered us (me) wrong yet.
Remember, you only kill the ones you love.
Except, of course, when you just maim them…………
Oh man. That’s got to be rough, especially if the character has been around since book 1.
I think it shows how deeply you’re getting into your writing (and how deeply your readers will, too) that you’re that emotionally effected by what you’ve written.
*hugs* I hate hate hate killing characters. But it must be done. Otherwise it gets confusing, like in LOTR when we wonder why there aren’t 8 trillion elves by now if they’re immortal yet can reproduce. So remember, you’re working for the greater good here.
I totally understand! And I feel your pain!
There’s nothing more to do than to keep writing!
I’ve so been there, and will be there again.
hit the nail on the head …