Toen ik vorige week eenmaal het verhaal met Trystana had afgerond was er vrijwel meteen een ander personage dat tegen me begon te praten. Deze persoon is heel belangrijk in het boek dat ik al jaren wil schrijven en helaas heb ik haar veel te lang genegeerd, waardoor ze een beetje gefrustreerd is. Hieronder volgt deel 1 van ons gesprek en who knows hoe lang dat gesprek zal duren; we hebben heel veel te bespreken.
A Conversation With Moira
The moment Moira stepped through the door that had appeared in my mind, the character I had been talking to previously disappeared. The 500-year old vampire called Trystana simply faded into the darkness as if she had never been there, but I knew that somewhere in that dark void, she was still kicking and punching the walls to be let out. She’s a feisty one, that Trys.
I had just come to terms with the fact that, in order to keep Trystana alive, I would have to write about the world that I had created so many years ago. The first person to come to mind in that moment had been the main character, a 20-something year old woman moving away from the safety of her home in order to find… Well, I didn’t really know yet. It had been too long since I’d thought about Moira and in doing so, I’d never really thought her motives through.
So when she stepped through that door and her shadow solidified into her physical body, I was flabbergasted. I had just gotten used to talking to a 500-year old vampire who could’ve easily bitten through my jugular had she so wished, and now I was faced with a young woman whom I knew but also really didn’t. Her first words as she stepped through weren’t very helpful, either.
“Oh, crap. Where did I end up this time?”
After a slight baffled pause I asked, “What do you mean? Where were you before?”
Moira shrugged as she looked around the dark room that represented a part of my brain. “Somewhere slightly darker than this.” She looked at me and waved a hand at the empty space where Trystana had just been. “Where did the other woman go?”
Oh, crap. I had to explain it again. It sounded weird even to me, so I could only imagine what it sounded like to her.
I sighed deeply before answering her. “She went back into the depths of my mind when you stepped through the door. She’s not really real, just a figment of my imagination based on a real person that I have yet to write a story about.”
“You mean my story?” Moira asked, making my jaw drop. Upon seeing the look on my face she snorted and walked over to sit on the chair opposite me at the table. “I am so much like you, are you really surprised to find out that I know the truth?”
“Yeah, I kind of did make you a Mary-Sue, huh?”
Moira snorted out a short laugh. “Just a little.” Her curls bounced around her head as she turned it to survey the room. “Still not feeling that great about yourself, huh? This darkness is really getting depressing.”
“Well, that is the root of the problem.”
She waved her hand and, just like I had done before with Trystana, summoned a cup of coffee. Oh, she really was me. Sort of. Not really. But yes, completely.
“Don’t you think it’s time to let all those fears go, Ki- I mean, Keara? That’s what you’re calling yourself, right?”
Okay, was she in my head now? What was going on?
“I mean, I understand,” she went on, “You created me years ago, wrote a bit about me and my friends, but you never really got any good feedback on it. Even now that you’ve opened yourself up to it, you’re not getting it. It sucks, but it doesn’t mean you suck.”
Oh, great. I was basically having a therapy session with a fictional character. Had I finally lost my mind, then?