There has been a lot (to put it mildly) of thought put into the debate of whether art imitated life or life imitates art. Personally I think it’s a little in one direction and a little in the other. I can assure you that I get plenty of ideas from the outside world, and I have also heard my own lines (usually dialogue) come out of people’s mouths in real world conversation. So, go ahead and process that. What I think gets overlooked too often is how often art imitates art. I can’t speak for everyone but I get a large part of my boost, my get-up-and-go, my whatever it is that makes me do this from the art in the world all around me. There is nothing like looking upon the work of a master to fill you with hope about what you might accomplish with your own work. And to a lesser extent there’s nothing like viewing a complete failure to make you think that maybe your own work isn’t so bad and at the very least you can do better than that.
But I digress, back my original point, which is how much life imitates art and the other way around. I’m not saying I have an answer, I’m just here to point out a strange moment from my morning. I’m a little freaked about getting this current story done and I actually found myself splashing water on my face in the bathroom and giving myself a pep talk in the mirror. Not once in my life have I ever done this. Mentally perusing my writing history, though, yields at least three characters who have performed this act…the most recent being Matthew’s first mark in Second Choice. I have nothing insightful to say about this, I’m only here to point out how weird it is when you start acting, even in some tiny little way, like one of your own characters.