My protagonist, Michael “Neruda” Flynn, is upset with me. He saunters in as I’m working on my next work in progress and pounds on my desk. “How badly did you tell my story in THE LANGUAGE OF THE SON?”
I look up. “What do you mean?”
He throws his hands in the air. “You sold a bunch of copies, but nobody is reviewing it!”.
“Oh. That.” I take a sip of tea. “Maybe people are afraid of hurting my feelings if they hated it.”
He scoffs. “You have no feelings! Writers are soulless creatures who devise more ways to torture poor, innocent characters like me.”
I squint at him. “Have you been reading my browsing history?”
He crosses his arms and slumps back in his chair. “No, but I survived all the knives and arrows you flung at me in a three-book series.”
“Yeah, sorry about that, but readers want you to suffer. Otherwise there’s no story.”
“But why must I suffer so much?”
I shrug. “You don't think I suffered too as I was writing your tale? All those endless revisions and scenes to make the story work!”
He points a finger at me. “Just you wait. I’ll write my own story and base a character on you. I’ll send her into a field of dragons and snakes, and believe me, it won’t be pretty.”
“I guess turnabout is fair play.” I take another taste of my tea and raise my fingers above my keyboard. “Now can I get back to my next novel?”
He glances at my screen. “That poor girl. What did she and her family ever do to you where you have to cause her so much grief?”
“They visited my imagination.”
If you’ve read THE LANGUAGE OF THE SON, Michael and I would appreciate an honest review.