It gets a little creepy sometimes because you go on about your life with them still inside your head and you look at the world and all of sudden you think in their mindset, how one character will deal with what is currently happening to you, what this character would say when they’re in your situation, how that character will solve this problem you’re having.

And sometimes you do it their way.

Sometimes you look at a shirt and think, ooh, that will look good on (name of character) as if they are a real person and sometimes you are more considerate of them than you are of your friends and family.

But then again, it’s good that the characters are real to you because if they don’t feel real to you then they won’t feel real for your readers and then what’s the point of you writing?

I guess, if you really think about it, of course your characters would feel real to you because in every single one of them, you put a piece of yourself inside them: maybe it’s your insecurities, maybe it’s your love for art, maybe it’s your sarcastic humor, maybe it’s that little girl inside of you, sometimes it’s your shame and your guilt and sadness and pain…and if you’re lucky you are able to make them rise above that. You are able to give them little victories, spots of happiness in an unfair world, watch them grow in both strength and spirit and feel—wow, this character is someone that I imagined, someone that I made up and they used to be so small, so ordinary but look at them now. It is through them that you see who you are, who you've become, how far you've traveled; that is a piece of me and it’s beaten the odds.

And you think that maybe, just maybe, you can do that, too.

Sometimes I just want to gather everyone of them and give them a big hug for making me feel so good about myself.

And yes, I do find writing therapeutic.