I walk in the air, between the rain, through myself and back again. Where? I don't know.

I've often wondered how male authors can write believable female characteres, and vice-versa. I mean, not just characters, but entire stories writting from a first-person p.o.v., where the entire thing is flawless. I'm perusing "Witch of the North" by Courtway Jones, (again), and I'm blown away (again). The man is a genius. I think that's when I'll know that I've truly arrived as a writer: not when I've been published, (for I have daily proof that junk is published far more often than good writing), and not when I've made someone laugh or cry (for I did that with the mothers' day cards I used to scribble out as a child) but when I convince the reader of the reality and vital necessity of a character who is nothing like me.

posted by Emma @ Tuesday, June 24, 2003