Precious little moments

I woke up today thinking of my MC. I try to see where she is now, what she's doing but the more I try to picture her, the more she slips away. I usually let her be, waiting for her to show me the way but this time, all she shows me is the last part of the chapter I wrote.

I fear that I may have damaged her more than the book requires. Is this even possible?

All I want to do is close my eyes and think about her story. I may rewriting the book but the more I change the occurrence of the events the more I discover. Which is fascinating and thrilling and utterly magical. I feel like I'm part of that world now like a little explorer walking around, stalking those characters that I created, waiting for them to reveal their true self, to tell me their true story.

Have you ever felt like this when going back to edit or rewrite a book?

I live for that feeling, for the sweet, indescribable feeling of having the world/story that you created before you and be free to explore, to invent and recreate. It's like taking a dive only that this time it's not into the unknown but into the warm, crystal clear waters.

Want to take a dive with me? Here's where I left her (Meg it's her name) and now she isn't talking to me!

This is it!

"Everywhere I look I see nothing but red roses. The fence is gone but still there is no way out of this place, and my unstable feet cannot support me any longer. When I fall it’s not mud that covers my body but a hot, crimson liquid.

Blood.

I wake up sweaty and it takes a moment to register that the sound of what I was dreaming about was not in my imagination.

Neither was the blood."