Satisfaction and data recovery

I've written about and plotted over dozens and dozens of characters in my life. I've been consumed each time with finding out their motivations, their stories and their ultimate outcomes. 

Or so I thought. 

One thing I never quite synced with was the idea I've heard other authors mention, the idea of the character telling them where the story should go. And I always figured maybe it was cute, author-y kind of word play for when unexpected scenarios form as you're writing and it sounds better than "I don't know where that came from but it's pretty cool." 

Or so I thought. 

Over the last week, a character appeared in my brain while working on another story and basically hijacked all parts of daily living until I focused on their creation and story. A character who is sitting would sit on my (internal) shoulder and push me past what I thought was working until they sat back in satisfaction that I was finally getting it right. 

Before you consider suggesting I should be carted off for an evaluation (which isn't necessarily a bad idea) I have to say this has been a deeply, creatively satisfying experience. And weird if I think about it too long. When I get details recorded and the outline progresses, I feel as emotionally spent as a good cry, deep conversation, or... well.

You get the idea. 

On a slightly less provocative note, I'm relieved and pleased to report that the missing 3 AM work from last week reappeared before I could expend the energy on replicating it. Like magic. Or gremlins. 

And then I found about a dozen outlines I'd done within the last year and thought lost. I went back and re-read a short story I wrote a year ago, also among these files, and wasn't embarrassed by it at all. I quite liked it, truth be told. Maybe, just maybe, I'm not a festering waste of a hack at all. Or if I am, I'm the kind I'd read. Which is a victory anyway to my way of thinking.