I love my little babies to death.

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For most writers, characters are like our little babies. You give birth to them, you love them, you nurture them, you help them develop their personalities, you mould them, you watch them grow and mature, and in the end you have no choice but to let them go out into the world in order for them to inspire and share their own stories with all.

This is their gift to the world.

It’s hard to let go of them because we grew so fond of them and shared so many experiences and plots and twists and themes with them; passion, love, hate, jokes, laughter and at times even some violence and madness.

We both told each other our inner most secrets, shared deep thoughts and aspirations.

We both helped each other out of hard times and we helped ease the stress when we were troubled, nervous or in doubt.

We accepted each other for who we were. Unconditional love. Some of my babies grew to be monsters. Some grew to be sweet and perfect, some became heroes, some were insane, completely out of their mind, but nevertheless I love them all the same and treat them all equal.

O boy are we gonna miss the good times we shared.

But all we can do is watch them glow proudly from the side-lines and hope that they do well, become successful and get the satisfaction they so much deserve.

And no matter how bad or good they are, no matter how evil, no matter how greedy, barbaric, deformed, mutilated, or slovenly…

I’m going to be a proud mother, and I will stand proud and say;

“Behold my offspring.” with a deep satisfied smile.

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