Molly lying on living room floor: head, neck, shoulders, rug-like-a seemingly boneless mass for the past three hours.
Me: “Molly, come! (Pleading) Come on, Molly, wanna treat?
Molly: Right eyebrow wiggles, feigning interest.
Me: (Commanding) “Molly, up, let’s go. Let’s go for a WALK!”
Molly: “Sigh” Seconds later grows a skeletal structure, and slowly rises from the floor like a Phoenix annoyed with re-birth.
Ten minutes later. Me and Molly on wooded trail hike. Molly hears the faintest chirp from a chipmunk.
Me: “Leave it! Stay Close”
Molly: Is already 30 yards away, at top speed chasing something as small as her biscuit-treats. She is a stealthy creature, leaping boulders (think: Russian ballet) and fallen logs in hot pursuit of her prey. She is a hunter, strong and determined, full of life.
Me: (Whistling) (Whistling again) “Molly, Come!”
Molly: Trots back after some time and accomplishment, feeling cock-of-the-rock proud.
This is the very same animal in both scenes, minutes apart. There are moments in every beings life when we feel most alive. One of my many jobs is to find out what makes my characters tick. What makes them feel most alive. It is not always as easy a putting a chipmunk in the scene, but I do tend to get to know my characters well, and dreaming up their motivation is actually one of my favorite parts of the job.
What makes you come alive? (Keep it PG-13!)