Do writers have Green Rooms?

Every writer has characters that they’ve created, stories that they’ve begun but never got around to finishing (I actually have a folder on my computer titled ‘unfinished’ and two partially completed NaNo manuscripts) We’ve also got some characters who we’ve seen brief flashes of and we’ve noted them down to return to at a later date.

Where do these characters go when we’ve given them the creative equivalent of being put into moth balls? What do they do out there in the creative ether, in a holding pattern, waiting for the control tower to bring them down.

Originally I conceptualised this creative purgatory to be a bank vault-ish – sort of a safety deposit process for storing characters away … protected from being pawned and reclaimed by another writer. This seemed like a pretty grim place to send the wild bunch that I’ve cavorted with in the past.

I realised that my characters-in-waiting have their very own Green Room. To pass the time they’re sharing beers, coffee, M&Ms and conversations (maybe even some bodily fluids).

So who’s currently in the Green Room?

Side by side on a couch are Adam and Eve (of the Adam and Eve concept), stuck in a perpetually awkward moment. For Eve it feels like de ja vu she hasn’t recovered her memories yet, but feels a strong connection to Adam and a need to drag him into a dark space. And there’s Adam, who has recovered the love of his life, but can’t tell her who he is, because they’ve been warned to allow her memories to resurface at their own pace. They’re probably talking about safe topics like the weather and giving themselves a chance to relax from relentless Government pursuit. Eve’s wishing someone would put on some decent music.

Sitting in single arm chairs that have been turned to face each other are Alex and Abby (from Finding Aphrodite). Since they weaselled their way into a sex scene (compliments of a 3am Epiphany exercise about this time last year) they’ve been pretty quiet – and sated I guess, having finally stripped off and got it on. Abby has her shoes off and Alex is rubbing her feet. This is causing a bit of a stir because technically their relationship hasn’t been outsed – and well he’s a political satirist and she’s one of the newest members of parliament. It’s also a little uncomfortable for Abby’s husband Calum who was last seen heading for the toilet with The Australian under one arm and a grim look on his face. He was gone before Vi could catch up with him.

Stalking about in the shadows waiting for his next hit is Jeff, the junky freelance journalist from Finding Aphrodite. He’s being watched with a mixture of repulsion and envy by Huxley, (also from Finding Aphrodite) who has cleaned up his cocaine habit, turned Christian but is slowly going crazy seeing Abby with Alex. He’s searching for a foam football to toss around to relieve the boredrom.

The Voodoo Cowboy is talking to my unnamed female character (a 3am Epiphany creation) about love, regret, guilt and salt rings. He’s missing Patience his horse, who for work place health and safety reason had to be left tied up in the parking lot.

Aurelia and Caleb from Second Chance are waiting for destiny to come and visit, and biding their time as best they can. They’re enjoying an espresso together and trying to avoid talking business – even though they both have in common that they work for the mob. After all he is an assassin and he’s been contracted to kill her, it's best to keep things simple. Aurelia is hoping it doesn’t start raining.

There's been a stir lately in The Green Room created by the most recent arrivals – the crew and cast of Captain Juan who have been forced into a Green Room hiatus over the Christmas break, waiting for their serial to resume. There’s a collective swoon from all the women in the room and there’s a tussle between Juan and Intaglio over who can pull the most virtual chicks. Intaglio was seen carving notches into the door frame, though Juan maintains he's got the longer sword.

Domenica is at the toilet door, waiting to preen herself and in doing so met Vi and the two of them have settled down at the toilet door to scheme and bitch. Ruby and Father Paolo have been drawn to the Voodoo Cowboy and the unnamed character for a philosophical and theological discussion – the cowboy and Ruby finding a common ground in voodoo and paganism and Father Paolo is trying to console the Catholic guilt and angst in the unnamed character. Dante’s lurking in the corner and finds himself side by side with Jeff, both of them thinking of torture and unnatural deeds.

Pablo’s washing up all the dirty coffee cups and collecting up empty beer bottles, while Pete follows him around giving him grief about being uptight. Bruno and the boys have just discovered disco since Eve finally worked out how to tweak the music system and someone just broke the coffee table and sent the M&Ms spilling across the floor.

Calvin’s been spotted sneaking beers from the fridge and is now bemoaning his boyish frustrations to Adam, who has frustrations of his own. Then someone calls out ‘fire in the hole’ …


This article was inspired by Paul Anderson's short story Literati & Sons, Metaphysical Pawnbrokers.

Image: Broken Glass by Abandoned Alaska via Flickr

A little privacy - PLEASE!

Since coming back from Byron Bay I’ve been stalked. It’s not the first time and it probably wont be the last time. I’ve been followed to the toilet (and not just by my four year old), had uninvited guests in the shower, the car often carries passengers that were not intended to be with us on the trip, there are others in the backyard when I'm hanging out the washing and I’m certain that there are at least two people who trail behind me in the supermarket isle every time I go (well I’m at least positive that they are there behind me in the check out queue). And not content with the daylight hours, they’re prowling through the recesses of my nocturnal mind, weaving their way in and through my dreams, leaving me to lie awake and think about them and their lives.

Like Mel Gibson in What Women Want I hear all sorts of things. In the past week I’ve been privy to conversations on a ten year liaison with a Queen – of the royal kind, spiritual crises, guilt over killing someone and plots to kill others, there’s been a case of Government conspiracy, stolen technology and complicated love (well is there any other type?) And that’s just in the last week.

A year ago I would have thought someone insane had they talked about characters speaking to them … voices in their head. I would have wondered if they were paranoid, mentally unstable or prone to flights of fancy. Now I wouldn’t blink and eye – in fact I was enthusiastically nodding my head in several session at the Byron Bay Writers Festival when other writers spoke about their characters speaking to them. Phew – their not mad and I’m not crazy.

All this talk of characters first started during NaNo last year. Square1 spoke often about her characters harassing her, and yes at first I thought she must have been just a little mad – well you do have to be a little crazy to undertake NaNo in the first place. Then I realised that yes … my characters seemed to follow me around all the time. At that time they were particularly drawn to showering with me.

Not only that, but my characters did things, influenced the plot and direction of the story more times than I cared to admit. Then there were characters that emerged from the shadows and take centre stage. I was writing a feminist political novel – so where the hell did these two men come from. One a drug addicted, middle aged journalist on the downward spiral and the other an emotionally confused, damaged football player who propped his entire life up with cocaine and the hope that he'd 'get her back'.

And they took me places that I had never intended to go and forced my central character Abby into situations, conversations and predicaments that I would never have willingly chosen her to traverse. They brought out dimensions in her that I could never have brought out and also crystallised who other characters were – especially Abby’s long suffering husband. Then there was the character of Alex (he was called Jamie then – he objected at the start of the year to that name and thus provided me with a name more befitting him –or so he thinks!) I spent the whole of NaNo waiting to write the scene in which he walks into Abby’s life – I’d spent the entire month of November fantasising about it, but never knowing just who that character was going to be when he set foot on the page. It was a surprise who turned up on the page – but he was perfect.

Then there was the incident of my characters Abby and Alex bugging (or should that read begging) me to let them 'get it on' with each other - something that I kept resisting - after all it was January and I had shelved Finding Aphrodite. But they were insistent. Who could imagine that two imaginery characters could be so persistent about sex. Finally I caved in - and they got their wish in one of the 3am Epiphany exercises that I did. While it was mostly out of context from the story, and their names were never mentioned - they've been happy ever since. No more petulent outbursts nor cries of sexual frustration!

As a writer your moral boundaries are often pushed by characters. Sue Wolfe was one of the panellists at a session on where your ideas come from at the Byron Bay Writers Festival. She spoke of how she got writing block in completing her third novel and the reasons behind the block occurring. She said that her male central character suffered from such a severe stutter that he was basically mute, and became a peeping tom in his pursuit of the woman that he loved. She said she tried for a week to steer this character away from his practise, that she found morally objectionable. In the end she discovered that she couldn’t write any more – her and her character were dead locked and the writing process ground to a halt ... for many months.

This sparked Sue's interest in neuroscience and both the scientific and biological bases for creativity. One of the things that she discovered, and now teaches, is what she terms ‘dangerous writing’. As writers we have to surrender and let our characters take us to wherever it is that they must go, even if we object. There really is no room for ego in writing, not unless you want to be constantly at odds with your characters. Sue Wolfe said that its in this dangerous writing, that we open ourselves up to all kinds of possibilities, when the creativity flows the easiest and we’re best positioned to connect with all the ideas, especially the broader ones that concern our writing.

It was another of those enthusiastic head bobbing moments for me. I have been lucky enough these past few months to have had Paul championing me to go to my ‘uncomfort places’ when I write … and this is really an example of Sue Wolfe’s ‘dangerous writing.’ Some of the things I have written about really have pushed my buttons; I’ve explored people, situations, emotions and repercussions that I probably could have happily left well alone - baby stealing and an unfaithful husband two of them. But I’ve gone there, I’ve played in the shadows, I’ve surrendered and I’ve had some of my best stories to date.

I guess what we as writers need to educate our audiences, and loved ones (if we have two distinct groups!) is that just because we may write fiction that is gruesome, that is painful, is morally objectionable (and the list goes on) that it’s not a reflection of us as people. I believe that the writer is the vehicle of the characters, rather than the reverse ... And that we from time to time might say insane things and speak of our characters as if they are real life, living breathing human specimens - well they actually are for us.

So now I’m getting used to being stalked - even though I want to shout out, “A moments privacy – please!” as Captain Juan and his first mate Pete wander into the toilet after me to discuss some pressing matter aboard the La Gongozzler. There really is little that I can do with them, other than be grateful (begrudgingly) for them having paid me a visit and gifted me with more jewels of storyline and dialogue from the wide open sea. They’re probably as blissfully unaware as my four year old is about the need for some privacy – after all they seem to be only focused on their stuff. If only my people could talk to their people about organising a better spot to meet up - the check out queue perhaps or the washing line?

Cartoon from Royalty Free Cartoons which have a great selection of privacy cartoons available!