George R. R. Martin seems to kill characters willy-nilly and seems not to suffer overly much from those deaths, or if he does then he is a masochist of highest order, because I killed a character today, and I feel like shit. I figured out that the death was coming earlier today and knew exactly why my page count had slowed to a crawl, it always does just before I have to lose someone on paper. I walked around in dread for most of the day, and then finally sat down to write. I wrote, then a few tears, and then I finished the scene. I wept, no exaggeration, I freaking sat at my desk and wept, and then I realized it wasn’t done. The death wasn’t enough, there had to be the grief, the reaction of those left behind and that made me cry harder. I wrote in near hysterics, and even now the reaction of everyone isn’t finished, because this death will haunt and effect the rest of the book, and any book that comes after it in the series for that matter.
I found the Kleenex box, and used several, then I printed the pages off for my husband, Jon to read, since he’s the only one that’s read the book besides me, at this point. My dogs decided to be amazingly cute at that moment, because they seemed to know I needed it. They made me laugh, then we all left my office and went to the main part of the house, and then I did something that I’ve never done after writing anything. I got a hard cider from the fridge, opened it, and took a swig. I hardly ever drink, I don’t like the taste of most of it, and don’t need anything to lower my inhibitions, thanks, but today I made an exception. It was the most my husband had ever seen me drink at one time, and I still didn’t finish the bottle. I got to that warm, tingly, rush point and stopped. I wasn’t sure it helped, but it didn’t hurt.
Cupcakes next, because almost everything is better with cupcakes. One a piece for everyone in the household. Got something for dinner I hadn’t had in months, maybe a year – Domino’s pan pizza just cheese. It’s been one of my comfort foods for years. I don’t usually give into food cravings, because it totally kills all the effort at the gym, but tonight I indulged in the pizza. My cupcake remains untouched, the pizza seems to have filled me up. Now watching the musical, 1776, with my family, because it’s been a feel good movie for us for years.
I’m feeling more peaceful, not happy, but calmer. But if I killed off characters the way George does, apparently I’d be an alcoholic, and weigh about three hundred pounds. Good thing I don’t write too many death scenes of major and beloved characters.