Intrepid

Whenever certain readers finish one of my books, I ask for their reaction. While authors have specific intents and themes in their books, something you learn early on in your writing career is that each reader has a personal takeaway on what was special to them about a given story.  Thus, the responses are as unique as the individual reader.

So when my cousin finished The Forest Ghost, I asked who her favorite female character was in the entire saga. (She still loves Uncle Arthur as her favorite male character.)

   What she said surprised me. 

   And then it didn't.

   "I like Annie."

    Of course, I immediately asked why she liked the precocious, seven-year-old granddaughter of Mead and Sarah Ernst from the previous book in the saga, The Master of Hounds. She continued, saying (paraphrasing here, as this conversation went on for some time) Annie just had that wild, go-for-it spirit and completely unapologetic about whom she was.

   Truthfully, Annie was one of those characters who ran away from me, and for my part, I was pretty much helpless to stop her. When novelists say we only watch what the characters say and do and then write it down, readers look at us like we need one of those jackets that zip up from behind. (But I tell you, it's true: we simply observe.) While not the protagonist, in nearly every scene she appeared in, Annie stole the stage.


   But I don't believe it was Annie's outgoing nature that made the top billing on my favorite cousin's favorites' list, although my fitness guru, triathlete, Iron Man competitor kin certainly has one of those extrovert personalities that can lift nearly anyone from the depths of despair. 

   Instead, I suspect it was Annie's boldness--seeing a goal she just had to achieve or asking a blatant question for which she just needed the answer--that won my cousin's heart. Perhaps she saw in Annie what she saw in herself--that wonderfully intrepid soul.


    In dedication to Annie and my cousin, below is an AI-generated image and a passage from one of those Annie-stealing scenes in The Master of Hounds.

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