(Warning: This is Weaver writing in a way that reflects his thought processes, so linear is not necessarily in the cards. Literal may also occasionally be conspicuous in its absence.)
I need to stop getting so frustrated at my friends not noticing every last obscure/trivial detail in works of fiction. Sure, it means I can’t geek out with them over all the cool stuff, but I have to accept that as the price of… something.
If one of my clone’s most recent fans happens not to notice that a minor character in a couple of his novels happens to vaguely resemble someone with whom my clone sometimes shares a first name, I’m not gonna be the one to point it out to her. Sure, she has all the necessary information in which to notice a pattern or two, but… Well, most humans are lucky enough not to see interconnectednesses in minutia.
Tangent: Remember when I mentioned being frustrated when fellow writers in a workshop situation read one story I wrote and interpreted a reference to Earth as the home of humankind as some sort of political correctness thing, eliminating gender from the term, rather than writing it that way to place subtle emphasis on species? I’d hoped at least to plant an unnoticed seed of doubt… But no, most of ’em didn’t pick up the clues when practically slapped in the face with them. The protagonist from that story would be reassured, but his author is still kinda annoyed, and that happened more than two decades ago. *sigh* Maybe it would have gone differently if all the workshop participants had been SF/F people — we made up less than a fifth of the group — and thus more inclined to think about the options.
Still, I keep expecting readers of SF/F to think about the options. Person is not a homonym for human; while all humans are people, not all people (at least in sci-fi/fantasy) are humans.
Am I currently willing to hide behind figments of my own imagination in the hopes that no one really looks at the guy holding the pen? You betcha.
I’m having that odd argument with myself feeling, too. I want my friends to see the things I hide in my own fiction, but at the same time, I don’t want them to notice. I know that doesn’t make sense. Alandra would understand, I think. Not that I can talk to her about this. Hmm… I invented Alex in the first place to help me with difficult emotions; maybe I should ask him for advice. ‘Course, it’s a well-established fact that there are aspects of this situation with which persons in his profession cannot cope. (*is far too amused by his own obscure, borrowed Jungian snark.*)
*sigh* I’m okay, I swear. Just, as I said, simultaneously anxious and frustrated, wanting both to keep secrets and to share them. And Talk About All the Things. This current anxiety that someone might look at me… Eh. I’ll get over it. But I’ll remember, and I’ll use the remembered feeling in what I write.