Anna's comment the other day on how our characters are so real to us, got me thinking. Because it's true. My characters are real to me, not just figments of my imagination, but living breathing people, with hopes, fears and expectations of their own. I know every other writer will completely understand that, just as many non-writers will think I'm totally barking!
And they don't just take over and become real people when I sit down to channel their thoughts. They're in my head all the time, whether I'm ironing (tho I must be honest here - I so rarely use the iron it has cobwebs... ), burning dinner or being the on call taxi service to my darling off-spring. Occasionally other thoughts might intrude, such as - bloody hell, I've forgotten to buy the groceries again - but they are fleeting since let's face it, grocery shopping is borrrrrring! And listening to our characters is way more fun.
I have this huge fear that one day I'll wake up and there won't be anyone chattering away inside my head. Not only would I go insane if deprived of my writing outlet, but how in the world would I occupy my mind??? All that grey matter jiggling about with nothing to focus on. Nightmare!