Writing in the Third Person

It felt weird. There was no question about that. And, god...pretentious. But the reality was, third person was how she wrote her stories. And third person tended to be how her thought processes worked. It seemed to make it easier to put things into words if she could view herself from the outside looking in.

Her boy cat crunched his evening snack as she plinked out an evening post. She had been noticing all day how nice it was to not have some big thing to be doing...theatre and...well, theatre. Walking down the hallways at work, the cold of the old building fighting with the new HVAC and leaving it still cold, she felt a little lost without something planned for the evening. And a lot relieved at the same time. She hustled into her fleece jacket when she got back to her desk.

Sometimes, having nothing to do makes you take a long look at yourself. She figured that was a good thing, because it was so easy to ignore herself, distracted by the drama of other people and places and requirements. She had been pondering who she might like to be rather than a theatre person. A sailor of tall ships? A karate black belt? A mother?

Tonight she had been a new tennis-shoe buyer, wii player, snowfall watcher. What would she be tomorrow?

Before shutting her computer down for the night, she waved hello to Jeni who was following her blog. She wondered who Jeni had been tonight and hoped she was well and happy.