Talia walked into my bedroom with tears running down her face.
"Is it normal to be so emotionally attached to a fictional character that you care about what happens to them?"
After having just finished an episode of Sherlock, she'd woken me up. I don't know why she felt the need to risk my wrath by waking me up. Maybe she was worried about herself. Maybe she just felt like coming to see me. Maybe she needed comfort; most people don't like crying alone. Or maybe, based on her question, she wanted validation that she was normal.
But I can't say that she is.
I can say that she inherited this particular abnormality from me. Her reaction to Sherlock is the same one I get when I read a particularly well-written and engrossing novel. The books that I'll pick up a second time, the ones that I bawl my eyes out over and want to know what happens to the characters. Talia's reaction is what I hope to cause in someone else each time I finish a story and what I think every writer should strive for each time they put words on the paper.
That's a huge goal to reach for, and one I'll be having trouble finding time to work on these next few months.