I have never once in my illustrious life been called fiendish. I feared it was simply not within me. Just as chatty, sparkly and chummy are fundamentally beyond my DNA, fiendish was a laughable offense of which to accuse me….
Until my travel blog, that is.
As I’m sure you well remember, I am using my “Tiptoeing Soul” blog to feed my writing fix until familial circumstances permit me to return to the final edits of my 18th novel, The Hushing Days. An enjoyable undertaking all around, plus a nice break from fiction writing…
Well, that was the plan, at least.
Here’s where the fiendishness comes in.
In last week’s Tiptoeing Soul post and in this week’s, I have somehow managed to slip in fictional characters to help me introduce the writing nook. Last week it was a “cockeyed” bloke who stumbled upon my blog. This week, it’s a nasal-voiced auntish character with disapproval seething from her every cockle. These players are only present for the opening paragraph or two. They have no names, no existence beyond their one brief interlude but they are, in my mind, wholly fleshed out fictional characters.
Fiendish use of a travel blog, wouldn’t you say?
I should feel guilty, I suppose.
But I don’t.
Not even a pinch.
I guess, I truly am a fiend.