Yesterday morning, while getting breakfast ready, I had a character start talking to me. This is a character so minor as to almost not exist in the book – her name appears twice, and she doesn’t have a single line of dialog.

She wasn’t happy about that. She thought she should have played a bigger role, being the roommate to the main love interest and all. I explained that it wasn’t her story, and she’s lucky I even bothered to give her a name.

She insisted that if there’s a sequel, she wants a bigger part. She then told me a whole bunch of information about herself, like she’s a Social Work major and has a photo on her desk of her posing with Harry Reid.

Not quite sure what to do with that.

So later, I mentioned this little conversation to my wife. She rolled her eyes.” And I thought I had problems,” she said.

Thank goodness for online writer friends, who understand my kind of crazy.