I was walking (with Haeley
) in the snow today
(yes... we have snow. Can you believe it?), thinking about how I am such an observer. Hyperaware, as all of my sensory reactions absorb inputs from the surrounding environment, I find myself thinking, "If I was (this or that) character, how would I respond to this?"
There is a small, off-path trail that Haeley and I sometimes take that will transport me to a small, but fantastic wooded universe, complete with what I envision a Traveler's Circle (Explanation: Traveler's Circles are little protected alcoves along a path where travelers can stop over to rest.).
Today, it's cold and the ground is quite soupy. I can't imagine having to stay out in weather such as this, but I know I often force my characters to do just that. I have one character in an upcoming book who is a bit of a book worm and not well traveled. He finds himself included in the daring rescue of his milk-brother. His companions? Beer-drinking rogues, all.
It's not the cold. It's the wet. I'm certain, my character would take issue to sleeping outside in it, but he also wouldn't complain. Oh no. Can't give the others any opportunity to razz him. They'd have to squat and lean against trees or rocks. In fact, they probably wouldn't stop at all, figuring if they're going to be that miserable anyway, they might as well be miserable on their feet.
As Haeley and I returned from our mini-adventure, I remember thinking, "as he sloshed along, this character probably wouldn't even care if their party was being stalked by wild beasts." His focus would be on surviving the bitter cold gnawing away on the marrow in his bones.
And so I sit here wondering... Have I become an observer, because I write or was I born this way. Both my grandfather and grandmother were observers of the highest calibre as are my own parents. So, yes... it's partly genetic. And, (this thought just hit me) I can't help wondering if I am an observer, in part, because I'm the middle child. Here's the reasoning... The older ones are focused on by the adults as another resource capable of helping out. The younger ones are focused on because they need the most help. We middle kids just sort-of blend in. Too old to need much help and too young for the responsibilities of helping out. With nothing else to do, we sit and watch our other siblings do the things common to their place in the birth line.
Hmmm...I'll have to think more about this... More to come.