After connecting to a character, after grasping its essence, we often return to our world with a strange feeling. Separation leaves a feeling of emptiness. Was it just a dream? Does this character exist? Failing that, is it credible? Doubt: what nips creativity in the bud. Like any author, I was no exception: I suffered it.

Basically, weariness causes an incalculable number of sheets of paper, rolled and compacted without any care, to pile up before being thrown to the trash can, already overflowing to make each of my movements particularly risky. Positive, it greatly improved my equilibrium, it pleased my cat, and developed my basketball skill. Except I don’t play basketball often enough to measure it.

Without letting myself down, I was searching. How could I ensure the credibility of my characters? I renewed the journeys, the connections, immersing myself again in their world, which I also drew as I went along. That was not enough to satisfy me. I wanted to offer something even more true.

When you are an author, you are usually curious. My mental wandering made me unearth a study of psychology talking about the...enneagram. Exciting. It gave me comfort in analysing my characters… Yes sometimes I am too mental when I am not completely in the action.

Finally, I reopened my writer’s guide, and came across a rather surprising concept. Had I misread ?

Body self-criticism. The experience. Does my body get heavy when I read my story ? Do I feel connected with my characters, with their universe? Do I fall asleep while reading?

I was right. Everything made sense.

With the assurance of being able to offer a quality novel, I carry on.

And today, I’m still here.