I realized this morning, and I’m not sure why it took me a few weeks to make this connection, that I’ve somehow written into my own life a certain experience that is at the center of the life of the main character in my novel. That is purposefully vague, because I’m not ready to talk about details of the book with anyone. The point is, I invented a character and she is doing a certain thing, and then without realizing I was mimicking her, I started doing that thing too. I started to become my character. I think it usually is the other way around, right? Write from life not write things into your life. Weird. And good.
(also realized half way in that her name is almost an anagram to mine–might have to change it)