wizards, or my strange attachment to my character

[threeplusfire]

I've been writing non stop for days, and post sporadic bits. None of it seems to be in order. It's probably a pain this way, but it's mostly there. So it's something.

I don't know what is happening to this story anymore. It never was intended, all these things. I think what ultimately makes him a tragic figure is that he loves them too much and speaks too little. Or perhaps too obliquely. Something.

In this past year, he has learned regret, and it is strange for him to do so.

Writing for him makes me more sad sometimes than anything I've ever put down.