“Great.” Writer Lady says. “If he’s in my head and refuses to do anything but make those annoying tapping noises how am I supposed to know what he wants.”
“Read your mind.” House suggests.
Writer Lady closes her eyes, listening closely for some useful pertinent piece of information.
Tap, tap, tap, tap…
“It’s all just a bunch of annoying tapping.” She comments.
“I don’t know what to tell you.” House says. “You need to think ahead when creating characters with limited communication skills. What kind of creator would do something so thoughtless?”
Writer Lady looks at the ceiling. She calls, “You’re not making things any better!”
“I can’t be making things any worse.”
Tap, Tap, Tap, Tap, Tap
“Don’t be too sure about that.” Writer Lady says as she closes her eyes. “Okay tapper you have my attention, what do you want?”
TAP!
“That did not come through in English, could you repeat that please?”
TAP!
“This isn’t going well. We’re going to have to find another way to communicate.”
TAP! TAP!
“I’m calling out to a character I don’t even remember creating and he’s using profanity.” She mutters.
“What are you carrying on about?” Tinkletoes asks as he enters High Command. “Are you doing that girl stuff again?”
Writer Lady turns her attention to the self-proclaimed mercenary, “That was last week. How many uteruses do you think I have?’
“One or two, I guess, whatever you females usually have.”
She took a pause, gathering an extra bit of patience from who knows where she responds, “There’s only one and I did that stuff that week.”
“Good cause you were really cranky. I thought your head was going to start spinning around before it was over.”
“Really.”
Tinkletoes nodded. “I though you might be callin’ forth your winged monkeys.”
Writer Lady’s eyes narrowed.
“Releasing the hell hounds.”
“Are you done yet?!”
“Yeah I guess so. So what are you yellin’ about?” He asks.
“There’s this tapping sound that won’t go away.”
“Something going on with the pipes?” Tinkletoes asks.
“No. I checked everything. House also did a search and it’s one of my characters. He wants me to do something but I don’t know what.”
“Did you try talkin’ to him?” Tinkletoes asks.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do. He doesn’t talk he only taps!”
“Were you specific?”
Writer Lady’s face grows red then subsides. Talking using both hands for emphasis, she responds, “He doesn’t speak English or any language. He can’t talk. He only taps.”
“Why’d you create a character that can’t talk?”
“I didn’t! Not on purpose at least.”
“She didn’t.”
Writer Lady and Tinkletoes turn in the direction the voice is coming from.
“You have an Unborn.” Carp says. “I’m so happy for you.” He gushes.
Tinkletoes looks at Writer Lady. “You said you just had your time.”
“I did.”
The self-proclaimed mercenary looks at Carp. “She can’t have an unborn. Girls don’t have that female business every so often if they’re carryin’.”
Writer Lady rolls her eyes.
“Not an unborn baby.” Carp continues, correcting the self-proclaimed mercenary. “An unborn character.”
Tinkletoes makes a face, he appears to be at a loss for words.
“He’s confused.” Writer Lady says.
“That didn’t take long.” House comments.
“Watch your mouth!” Tinkletoes yells.
“I’d love to but I don’t have one.”
Tinkletoes stomps out of the room.
“That was odd.” Carp comments. The assassin-in-training turns back to Writer Lady. “Your first unborn character.” He says crossing the room. Arms outstretched, he pulls Writer Lady into a hug. “It’s an unforgettable moment for any writer. I’m so proud of you.”
Writer Lady makes a face. “Thanks?”
“I remember my first time. You must have so many questions. What would you like to know?”
“Where do unborn characters come from? Why can’t he talk? When will this end or will the tapping go on forever?”
Retrieving a chair, Carp sits down next to her. Placing a reassuring hand over hers he begins. “Unborn characters come from a writer’s imagination. They are conceived at odd times, usually when the writer is working on another project. It’s an amazing moment when a random thought becomes fertilized by a flash of inspiration. Many times the writer returns to the project they were working on completely unaware that anything has happened. The development of that character has only just begun. I want you to keep in mind that not every bit of inspiration grows into a fully fleshed out character. In order for this creation to develop any shape at all that shimmering bubble of an idea must find a spot where it will be nurtured and have room to grow. It slowly moves along the wall in a writer’s Corridor of Development when the bubble finds a spot with the right combination of nutrients available (hair color, eye color, habits, motivations and conflict) the still forming character will attach itself to the corridor wall feeding on the components it needs to grow. As the character becomes more fully fleshed out he or she goes from being one dimensional to ready for detachment and full development into a three dimensional character.”
“This character can’t talk because he hasn’t developed far enough to have the power of speech.” Writer Lady says.
Carp nods.
“If that’s the case what’s with all the tapping? Why hasn’t it happened before now?”
“Somewhere in that imagination of yours you developed the character enough to move around and grasp objects but not to speak. If he wandered into a room in your imagination with a metal cup in it or something…”
“That would be when he started tapping.”
“You’ve got it sweetie.”
“How do I fix it?”
“Like I said, you must develop the character further.”
“I don’t remember the creating him to begin with much less where he belongs.” Writer Lady holds up her hand, pausing the conversation she looks up towards the ceiling. “House, is this character a He or a She?” She asks.
“Tall, dark and brooding. Seething? No brooding. Congratulations. It’s a boy.”
Writer Lady shakes her head as she turns back to Carp. “I don’t remember creating tall, dark and brooding other than the brooding Lord of the manor for that Gothic tale. Lord Of The Manor popped into my head out of the blue, fully formed.”
A smile crosses Carp’s lips as he shakes his head. “They never pop up fully formed. Your tapper could very well be an earlier draft of your dark, brooding, Gothic Lord.”
A sick feeling pools in Writer Lady’s stomach, she sits up as she breathes out, slowly.
The assassin-in-training/retired romance novelist known as Carp continues, “You’re going to have to give him a voice in order to find out what he wants. The quickest way to do that is to take a deep dive into your brain.”
“TP and I can totally make that happen.” House announces.
“The last time any of you were in my head it was scary and made it nearly impossible to fight any ninja-zombies.” She sighs before continuing, “But if it’ll make the tapping stop…”
Carp smiles a smile that reaches his eyes giving them a mischievous glow. “Road Trip.” He sings.