Everyone I’ve ever let go has claw marks on them. Know anyone like that? If you didn’t before, you do now. I’m a hold on for dear life and love them to death kind of girl. I have been since the day I bawled my eyes out at preschool graduation. Even before then, probably. Hey, I was young, but I knew I’d never see most of those kids again and I loved them. I hate to think of how I’ll respond when my children begin leaving for college. It’s hard enough seeing them climb onto the bus every morning. I admit it. I’m a mess. If we’re in line too long together at an amusement park, I’ll probably ask for your email before I get on the ride. It’s tough for me to let you go.
Like most personality traits, I’ve learned to take the good with the bad. I’ve stayed in some relationships longer than I should have, but I’ve also stuck it out long enough to see others thrive. Discernment is hard, especially when every fiber of my soul screams, “Keep them! Love them! Feed them!” (I will love you with food, but that’s another post all together).
Today, I’m blogging for therapy and dealing with my most bittersweet book moment yet. My September 29th release, MURDER IN REAL TIME, happened to be the series conclusion to my mini-series, The Patience Price Mysteries, and I’m still a little frantic. I’m letting go of characters I love. Of my friends. I’ve spent as much time talking with this cast of characters as I have with tangible people in my life this year. Strange? Maybe, but true anyway. Saying goodbye to them has left me sad and hungry. I’m thrilled they get to meet new people, but I hate to think I’ll never accidentally blow up another car, office or boat house with them again. No more sundaes from the Tasty Cream or Mai Tais with friends on a deck overlooking the harbor. It kills me inside.
I shouldn’t be surprised. Authors kill me all the time. Does that happen to you? The fact I’m doing this to myself is new territory, but the feeling’s the same. If I could literally die from the loss of fictional characters, I’d be dusty bones by now. I still mourn the loss of characters I haven’t read since grade school. More recently, I’ve plotted letters, in the shower, for authors who ended series I wasn’t ready to let go. I need them.
Is it just me? Are other people so attached to book friends? Is it insane that I want one more of my favorites? Is there a series or character you’ve never let go?
I’d love to hear!