fictional-characters

One likes to think that there is some fantastic limbo for the children of imagination, some strange, impossible place where the beaux of Fielding may still make love to the belles of Richardson, where Scott__ heroes still may strut, Dickens__ delightful Cockneys still raise a laugh, and Thackeray__ worldlings continue to carry on their reprehensible careers. Perhaps in some humble corner of such a Valhalla, Sherlock and his Watson may for a time find a place, while some more astute sleuth with some even less astute comrade may fill the stage which they have vacated.

I write fiction not for my readers and not for myself. I write fiction for the sake of those odd heroic characters that are contained therein. They are counting on me as much as I am counting on them.

Heavy is the head that holds the pen of creation. We construct these characters from nothing, molding them from our imaginations. We give them hopes and dreams and unique personalities until they feel so real you__e mind believes it must be so. We watch them grow by our hands, not always knowing the paths they will choose with the obstacles we throw at them. They take on a life of their own and often surprise even us by their actions we couldn__ have imagined before it poured out of us onto the paper. We could change it if we really wanted to, but it would be forced and not be true to the characters. And when something tragic happens and one is lost, we feel that loss even though we know they were not a friend, a family member or even ourselves. It can be a hard thing to voice sometimes, to give tribute to the one__ left behind with the real sadness over something not so real. But we find the words and press on to the next challenge, because that's what good writers do.

I feel like these characters, these places, these beings and plots, and even these inanimate objects are counting on me for survival. It__ my responsibility to reveal them to the world, to show my readers the names of these things, to show them their histories and stories.

A good novel, one which entices the author as much as it beckons the reader.

Is the writer cruel that makes his characters suffer only to bring them to triumph or tragedy in the end?

There are only two things you__l ever need to know about me, Farin__nd you should know them well. I__ very smart, and I__ very rich.

She knew this day was different and worse, much worse than before. This was the day that Bethany began to believe their lies. And not only did she believe them, she silently repeated them, causing more damage to her soul and spirit than anyone else on earth could have ever done to her.

Some fictions become fixtures in the real city. Their stories are so powerful that they leap off the page on to the streets, irreversibly altering the place where they were set.

If you ever meet someone who thinks they are so special, the best thing to do is smile. You don__ have to say anything. Be friendly and then go doyour best. That will make you special, too!

Sometimes people who look different from you are scary. Maybe they are ugly. Maybe they are loud. Maybe theyare big. Maybe they are green. Maybe they are all those things. But you should not be afraid of them just because of how they look. You may find they are nice to you if you arenice to them.

Conchpore is real. It is as real as Malgudi, Brahmpur, Lilliput or Macondo. And also as real as San Francisco, Madurai, Edinburgh, Gaborone or Tokyo. You know that fictional towns exist. You visit them all the time.

Real people are made out of a whole lot of things__lesh, bone, blood, nerves, stuff like that. Literary people are made out of words.

I__ a blank canvas that I can paint however I desire. For the first time ever, I get to be the character in my own fantasy land.

I have always believed there is great value in studying the flaws of mankind and men __ven fictional characters. All of us are flawed. All of us are diminished by some form of prejudice and bias. If a fictional character is to be realistic, he must struggle with imperfections and weaknesses.

There are always messages, even enigmas to be searched, mysteries to be solved in all of my books. I like to puzzle readers, but I do not make so to the point of being so complex that they will lose interest in the plot. And that for me is the essence of every great literature around the world, and that__ been so for ages.(....)Some were inpired by real life characters, some other books I wrote are hybrid fiction/non-fiction, so I pretty much get inspired by people who have lived, and even who are still breathing among us_ so don__ get discouraged if I didn__ mention your personality traits yet. I might even have your name over my books, I must some day_

I do believe that characters in novels belong to their writers and their readers pretty equally. I've learned a lot of things about the characters I write from people who read about them. Readers expand them in ways I don't think of and take them to places I can't go.

There were five others before they got to him. He smiled a little when his turn came. His voice was low, smoky, and dead sexy. __y name is Augustus Waters,_ he said. ____ seventeen. I had a little touch of osteosarcoma a year and a half ago, but I__ just here today at Isaac__ request.___nd how are you feeling?_ asked Patrick.__h, I__ grand._ Augustus Waters smiled with a corner of his mouth. ____ on a roller coaster that only goes up, my friend.