This morning, I sat down with [insert your protagonist’s name] and asked them what really irritated them about their author.
“I don’t think we have enough time for everything, but. . . .”
10. You have all control over my life. I just want a safe, calm, relaxing life— but noooo. You turn everything upside down, force me to face my fears, and utterly terrify me before the book’s completed.
I’ll be lucky if I come through this alive.
9. You destroy everything I love. You add a person to my life, coax me into liking them, then you kill them.
You really expect me to enjoy having a broken heart?
8. You’re always busy when I choose to speak to you. Where are you when I have an idea to share? Some inconvenient place like the store or the shower, with no way of taking notes.
Seriously. What’s wrong with you?
7. You rename me a dozen times. What— is my name not cool enough for you? Sure. Keep changing it. Do you not realize the emotional hassle of adjusting to a new name every few hours?
6. You confidentially ask me to reveal all my secrets— then you turn around and blurt it to the entire world.
You’re writing a book about everything I’ve spent my life hiding.
Talk about a breach of trust.
5. You don’t warn me about the bad guy. The whole book, you convince me this guy is safe and good even though he gives me the heebie-jeebies. Then at the last minute, you turn around and whip out your grand finale— “Ha ha! You fell for it! You trusted the wrong person!”
How could you hide something like this from me?
4. You set me up in impossible situations— and then expect me to get out of it. “Come on,” you say. “Tell me how you’re going to get out.”
Are you kidding me?
I’ve already accepted my fate. I’m going to die.
3. You make me describe myself every time I pass a mirror. Seriously? I’m supposed to be acutely conscious if I have a Roman nose or a flat one? Auburn hair with hints of brown or brown hair with hints of auburn?
Lately I break out in a cold sweat anytime I see a mirror.
2. You spend more time scrolling through social media than talking to me. Go ahead, deaden your creativity with endless cat videos. I won’t always be here waiting on you.
1. I want you to be proud of me— but you’re too busy being proud of yourself. Do you not realize the gift I gave you, the opportunity to be my author?
Stop patting yourself on the back and give me a hug.
Let’s switch roles— what’s something your character does that drives you crazy?