One thing I love about creating fiction is that you can have fun. During the meaning of fingers on a keyboard Prince William married an alien, Prince Harry became King and put parliament in its place, and I introduced the concept that God has a sense of humour. I admit that is unlikely, mainly as I am an atheist, but suggesting that Charlton Heston wrote a new set of commandments to try and get the planet on track does have a certain ring to it.
At the moment I am resolving the dilemma of childhood, the one that should have been, rather than the one that never happened. Only it isn’t always a good idea dwelling on the past. However, as the characters are fictitious, more or less, I can reveal to all the world. Or at least those capable of reading between the line that my older sister was a right bitch. My quandary at the moment is whether the most evil character, my first wife, aka the whore of Babylon should have her name changed. After all, on the off chance she ever saw any text it might make her think. No, she was a heartless cow, animals that low down the food chain can’t apply reason.
It was fun in another novel when a guy was out walking with a friend and met his ex wife. When the hero says, you remember Dawn, he says, yes, if it wasn’t for her being such a bastard you wouldn’t be a millionaire.
A pity I can’t see that on my horizon.