The Attachment

I’m currently wrapping up a historical fiction book. The first one I finished last year before a medical emergency. I’ve been trying to stay active, for my physical health, but I feel I am in a place to finish this one.

The problem I am having is I am emotionally attached to this person. I had the same issue with the other novel. These are real people who lived and loved and struggled in their own unique ways. I’ve read hundreds of archived newspaper articles on each of them, dozens of books about their lives. They are both from the same town, same country, which was not intentional. One died around the time the other was born. Polar opposite in life struggles, but they each had their own unique version.

I don’t want this one to end, but I know it must. It is a beautiful story.

Apparently, it is not unusual for writers to attach to their characters. I actually researched it to see if I’m normal. I’m not sure about the normal part, but character attachment is a thing. It would be better if these were fictional people. There are so many wonderful people who lived and contributed to the world, I would love to write about them all.

But, then again, I’d cry all the time.