When Worlds Collide

I'm struck by a memory of a scene from the movie "Chicken Run" when Mr. Tweedy, all covered in chickens, shouts "Mrs. Tweedy! The chickens are revolting!!"... his claymation body brought down with a thud as the poultry revolutionaries take their first prisoner in this fantastically fun film.

WHY am I thinking of claymation chickens that ramble off physics and mechanics all in a British lilt? Because in my world, the chickens are my characters. And they're still at it. And in their own quiet way, they've started a revolution.

It's really quite something and more and more of them get into the act with each passing day. It's not all of them... we're not talking flash-mob here. But my characters, some of them, seem tired of waiting and once again I hear their cry, "Write us!"

And yes, I know they're not actually real people. I just read that last bit and realized that I'm writing my own pass to the asylum with each word --- but you get my point. Characters that I've been carrying with me for years are suddenly springing to life again. And it's not exactly how you'd think they'd do it.

To quote Mr. Tweedy again, "They're organized."

By simple virtue of "write it, don't talk it," I can't get into more detail than that (yes, I'm a tease; some people like that you know?). I'm just observing. And hopefully in about two weeks, I'll be able to explain these postings and you'll see what I mean by all this.

Someone once asked me, "How do you keep it all straight?"

"What?" I asked.

"Them -- the voices... the characters and the stories?"

"I just do," was my reply. There's a lot in this world that I don't know. Much of it involves dates in history, names of songs, and sports statistics. My brain isn't designed to retain such things within easy recall. But a plot... a character... the words on the page... that I know. That I remember. It's like they're plays and books and movies I've already seen. I recall them with fondness, even if they haven't been written. I've been watching them, reading, living them... for years.

Always looking for the right story... the right vehicle... the right moment. Weird how that works since it's all coming from my brain anyway---you'd think I'd be able to craft those scenarios by now, huh?

It's frustratingly serendipitous. I have two plays I've been itching to write for months. And now that I have the time, they're not there. And these other characters and plays are. Very much so.

The natives are getting restless.

But, before I can write tonight, I have real world things to do. To deal with. Events. Discussions. Meetings. Life.

And then... we'll see how the revolution goes.