[Hereford Eye]

My characters are always massively flawed and a bit dirty
Except for the fact my momma inisted on personal hygiene this sounds like you are ripping off my character(s) for your use. And that, according to prior posts, strongly iindicates you're writing my biography. Can't wait to read what i did with my life as I've always been curious. And then I get to sue for copyright infringment.

Can a character be perfectly flawed or have a perfect flaw? Would not either case be oxymoronic?

[KatG]

Yes, a character can have a perfect flaw. I feel as if I have now badgered poor Rob into deep regret that he ever started this conversation, and so I may end up being the character in his novel who meets a gruesome end, but if things are working better for him, that's great.

[Hereford Eye]

Yes, a character can have a perfect flaw.
Is that like one of them blemishes on a super-model?

[Rob B]

Yes, a character can have a perfect flaw. I feel as if I have now badgered poor Rob into deep regret that he ever started this conversation, and so I may end up being the character in his novel who meets a gruesome end, but if things are working better for him, that's great.

Not regretting it at all, Kat. If this helps me to view my writing in a different light, how can that be bad.

You'll be in the book. Or a book, but maybe not for long. ;)

[Rocket Sheep]

Can't wait to read what i did with my life as I've always been curious. And then I get to sue for copyright infringment.


Actually you can't copyright your biography. If you already had an autobiography and I copied word for word more than one line, then you could sue for copyright infringement. But don't worry, the fact that I would have to write a biography about a man that's spent half his life looking for his car keys means that there will be plenty of slanderous sueable material in there... and loads of dirt. I'm great at writing dirt. Dirt is my chosen genre. It's just not real enough if something's not dirty. I don't think enough writers are in tune with their dirt these days. And I don't mean that euphemistically. I'm talking about dirt, sweat, grime, dust, mould, soil, fecal matter even. Your poor mother will be very upset. :o

[Holbrook]

I'm talking about dirt, sweat, grime, dust, mould, soil, fecal matter even. :o

There speaks a woman who has mucked out her offsprings' bedrooms ROFL!

[lin]

Look out Kitty Kelly.

This might be a new genre...the slanderous unauthorized autobiography.

[Rocket Sheep]

Of course those with split personalities will have a distinct advantage in the slanderous unauthorised autobiography genre.

Wait... you're meant to muck out your offsprings' cages? :confused: Now why wasn't that covered in my issue of Good Shepherding?

[Hereford Eye]

So, that's what I was doing. Did I ever find them?

Cages is is such a wonderful metaphor for bedrooms! "If you do not stop scissoring your grandfather's whiskers while he's napping, you may go straight to your cage without dinner." Seems to have so much more dramatic impact than "straight to your bedroom."

[Rocket Sheep]

You really want to hear the story of the daily search for your car keys?

I decide to water my garden. As I turn on the hose in the driveway, I look over at my car and decide it needs washing.
As I start toward the garage, I notice mail on the porch table that I brought up from the mail box earlier.
I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car.
I lay my car keys on the table, put the junk mail in the garbage can under the table, and notice that the can is full.
So, I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the garbage first.
But then I think, since I'm going to be near the mailbox when I take out the garbage anyway, I may as well pay the bills first.
I take my cheque book off the table, and see that there is only one cheque left.
My extra cheques are in my desk in the study, so I go inside the house to my desk where I find the can of Coke I'd been drinking.
I'm going to look for my cheque, but first I need to push the Coke aside so that I don't accidentally knock it over.
The Coke is getting warm, and I decide to put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold.
As I head toward the kitchen with the Coke, a vase of flowers on the counter catches my eye--they need water.
I put the Coke on the counter and discover my reading glasses that I've been searching for all morning.
I decide I better put them back on my desk, but first I'm going to water the flowers.
I set the glasses back down on the counter, fill a container with water and suddenly spot the TV remote. Someone left it on the kitchen table.
I realise that tonight when we go to watch TV, I'll be looking for the remote, but I won't remember that it's on the kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the den where it belongs, but first I'll water the flowers.
I pour some water in the flowers, but quite a bit of it spills on the floor.
So, I set the remote back on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill.
Then, I head down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do.
At the end of the day:
the car isn't washed
the bills aren't paid
there is a warm can of Coke sitting on the counter
the flowers don't have enough water,
there is still only 1 cheque in my cheque book,
I can't find the remote,
I can't find my glasses,
and I don't remember what I did with the car keys.
Then, when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I'm really baffled because I know I was busy all damn day, and I'm really tired.
I realise this is a serious problem, and I'll try to get some help for it, but first I'll check my e-mail...