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 Did you have imaginary friends when you were a kid? You know, that special someone that only you could see. The perfect ‘person’ to share your secrets with, to confess breaking the cookie jar when you were sneaking a treat, or to tell fears in the dark. A playmate when nobody else was available. That kind of imaginary friend.
I had a few. The first ones I remember were “ghosts” and they hung out in my bedroom walls, coming out at night to visit with me as I fell asleep. Then there were the ones who came to listen to my stories, or to share stories of their own. We’d talk, I’d make up an adventure, again – as I fell asleep.
Then there were my teenage years… I’d make up love stories (what a shock, huh?). I was always the heroine and whichever cutie patootie I was crushing on – be he in school or a hunky actor on screen – would star as my hero. I didn’t spend as much time with my imaginary friends, they were more an audience for my mental fiction than anything else.
 As I started writing, my imaginary friends took on a new role. They became characters, both major and minor. They became my first line story critiques, so to speak. I’ve heard of authors who write for their readers. I admire that. A Lot. I wish I could do it. But I just can’t imagine readers out there – nameless faceless people who buy my books. Maybe it’s because I’m still a new author with only 3 books on the shelves and it hasn’t become real yet. Or maybe it’s the idea of writing to people I don’t know, whose likes, dislikes and experiences aren’t familiar to me. But for me, right now, it’s so much easier to tell the stories to my imaginary friends.
For some, I think this is like writing to the Muse. Having inspiration whispering in their ear, guiding their story. While I do believe in the Muse and her amazing inspiring powers (my Muse has a whip and a stopwatch… she’s a toughie) but she’s there to get me writing. My imaginary friends are there to enjoy the end result. To give me feedback and let me know if a story works or not. They are rarely there while I write, but when I finish and am reading through a book before I turn it in, they are reading over my shoulder. Call me crazy, but it makes me feel much better when I turn the story in to know it’s been read and approved. (and btw, my imaginary friends LOVED Risqué Business!)
So I’m curious… this is just my process and obviously the imaginary process that I write to. How about you? Did you have an imaginary friend as a child and if so, when (if at all) did you outgrow them? How about now? If you write, do you find yourself imagining your readers and their reactions? Do you look to them for feedback?
For more information about Tawny Weber and her books, visit www.tawnyweber.com.
10 Comments
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LOL that your imaginary friends ie: characters shout at you. Mine are much more sarcastic. Snide comments, imaginary eye rolls, that kind of thing *g*
Yes, I, too, had lots of imaginary friends, and animals. I had a pet tiger named Zulu when I was young. That cat went everywhere with me, and experienced everything I did.
Nancy 
Pat Cochran 
HI, Tawny–
Thanks for guesting with me! I had imaginary friends when I was small. Like yours, they eventually became characters. I sometimes feel as if they’re whispering in my ear–or shouting, “No, no, I’d never do that!”–when I’m writing.