Growing Up to Be Elsa
The blurb for Woman Justice reads:
What happens to all those characters a novelist creates? Could it be that they exist in an alternate plane? Could they be capable of returning to the writer, demanding a better, more fulfilling existence?
Who better to answer these questions than a character herself? I supposedly am a fictional character of the author Rosalyn Wraight. It is said that I am animated because of her. If that is true, then the opposite must be true as well: I am stifled because of her. For a long while I have been give a back page on her web site. Posting capabilities restricted. Comments off. Administrative permissions denied. Closeted or what?
Am I only to have the right to speak when the writer pens a little dialogue for me? Have I no right to my own ideas and opinions? Must I be content to live as a peon in her aristocracy? Pulled out like a puppet when the puppet master sees a need? Pshaw, I say. Pshaw! She made me strong and stubborn, a bender of the rules.
And so, I topple the queen from her throne. I snip the threads that tether me to the master. I bend—and maybe break—the rules. Lesbian Writer meet Lesbian Detective.
