Sometimes I feel like a fictitious character.
To Gr8Kat: Could you please post here (or send ME by e-mail) the e-mail address for that Emergency website? I can’t pull it up on this computer; I have to know the exact e-mail address for them to mail them from my own e-mail server. Thanks very much. 
***dougie_monty: {{About one of those fictitious women I created–her name is Eloise Sharp. Her husband is a company executive. They are wealthy and live in a big mansion. They have been married for 25 years, and have 15 kids! By their own estimation they have “done it” 80,000 times!!}}
This works out to 8.77 times per DAY, on average, for 25 years. Even Bill Clinton would get tired of it at that rate.
Rich Barr
massivemaple@hotmail.com
AOL Instant Messenger: Hrttannl
Golly, how did you get into the White House? Or are you really Kenneth Starr? :o
I’m a writer, too, and as I’m writing my novel now I’ve given quite a bit of myself in my main characters. The narrator, a woman, represents the female side of me (or, perhaps, my idealization of a perfect woman). The main male character is an idealized version of myself.
And, no, this isn’t porn or sci-fi.
Another such character is named “Mary Blonda.” She is a blonde; she is Dolly Parton-shaped, but 5’5". She has a husband Bob, and three kids: an older daughter, April, who regards the mother as a role model; and two younger boys, Bobby and George, who have an innocent crush on their mother.
In one vignette, Mary is chatting over the back fence with a neighbor, and suddenly calls the two boys over to go get cleaned up–they’re going to the mall in a little while. The boys blush, stammer, and fidget as their Mom talks to them. After they leave, the neighbor, who has watched this, asks Mary about her husband:
“Did Bob act that way toward you when * he * was that age?”
“Bob acts that way toward me * now.”*
I’m with Byzantine on this one. I’ve started and nearly completed over a dozen novels (romance) and I not only walk around the house talking to myself working out the characters and what they would say or their motivation, I do it while I drive. I use to love rush hour traffic and the down time away from work, phones and household responsibilities…yeah, right…I am a hoabitual daydreamer. The problem was was I would get this phenom idea whilst driving and have to write a buzz word down on my hand or slice of paper to remember it because if I didn’t, by the time I got home, it would be filed in the outpile of my cluttered mind.
My husband was driving with someone else one day and they passed me on the highway and his friend thought I was a loon to be chatting away merrily with, well, me. Hubby just commented, " She has her best conversations with herself."
I have to stop this eventually while my son is in the car or one day he will parrot me back to me and , well, that will be embarrassing. I guess I’ll have to go back to singing at full tonsil.
In the car, we get bored, and we make up stories about people that we see outside. “She’s turning back because she left her garage door open.” Sometimes the stories get quite long. People sitting in the back seat go “how do you know all this stuff?” and we just laugh.We may be a bit rude.
***dougie_monty: {{Golly, how did you get into the White House? Or are you really Kenneth Starr?}}
I am the Immortal Master of Time, Space, and Dimension–I know everything. And if you ever use the swear-word “golly” again, you will be Darned to Heck, where you will spend eternity amongst mended socks.
Rich Barr
massivemaple@hotmail.com
AOL Instant Messenger: Hrttannl
Is there such a thing as eternity?Infinity?
got mail today… gonna share so stand back if you freak…
Byzantine-
As an avid reader of your posts and of your writing style I am
interested to know what books you write? or the name you write under?
I’d like to check them out.
Thanks for the interest and believe me I appreciate it as a writer. But
I find myself in a dilemma. I tell you, you tell someone else and
eventually it goes to the board. It’s like Stephen King and Richard
Bachman. We both know they are one in the same no matter how much he
tries to cover it up (not like he really has in the last decade). No,
I’m not him. No, I’m not even remotely famous. That’s not my point.
Please read on. If I say who I am and admit, list, what I’ve written in
the past or what I’m writing now or plan to write in the future, don’t I
forever limit myself? Isn’t that like shouting in a crowded room, “this
is ME, all that I am and all that I will ever be!”? Would you be able
to stand and say the same? Is there a definitive you? Could you ever
define yourself by what you’ve done in the past?
I will discuss my writing and even my life to a point in an open forum
like the board. A board where I have anonymity unlike I have in any
other part of my life. I will tell you that I write romance novels
(none have been published but this is my passion beyond all others.)
I’ve published multiple erotic stories with Hustler, Penthouse, and the
various publications that they have. I’ve published several short
stories (romantic, sci-fi, fantasy, other), one novella, poems and even
had lyrics sung by a local band in SLC. One of my investigative
journalism stories even made it to the cover of a local weekly paper. I
can’t even begin to tell you about all the stories published in my
college newspaper.
I get around and am proud about that but if I give out my name (and all
or even one of my nom de plumes) I can just kiss my anonymity good bye
as far as this board is concerned. People would start to see me
differently and I couldn’t just be a person without all those ties. Who
would believe anything I say (write) again knowing that I have written
everywhere on the map? From Lust to bite the Dust. Would you, could
you, hell, do you even believe me now? Knowing that if I’m a good
writer I can twist my words around your head and wrap you up so tightly
in them that you find yourself wanting to believe. Isn’t it easy? Let
me walk you through it…
My range is vast and I truly love what I do and even find myself wanting
to brag and announce myself on the boards. But I again I can’t or
don’t. I gain a new public and perhaps a fan base if I do. But look at
what I loose. I can’t just be me anymore. I can’t just write and say
what I think and feel because someone out there will just look at it and
go “she’s just testing out an idea” she’s not telling us the truth. I
loose my honesty, my right to just express without the worry of having
it blasted back in my face if I change my mind.
Again I thank you for your interest in me as a writer. It feels great
that I’ve captured your attention. But to be honest to myself I wish to
be another great “nobody” within the board.
Best to you and yours!
Byz
yeah, this guy probably wants to just kill me… again, no one knows me so just kiss my sweet ass and call it ice-cream!
The moon looks on many flowers, the flowers on but one moon.
“…mended socks??!” Hey! I wondered where my good black dress socks went!! 
***sunbear: {{Is there such a thing as eternity?Infinity?}}
I’m afraid that’s classified.
***dougie_monty: {{"…mended socks??!" Hey! I wondered where my good black dress socks went!!}}
Level C, Area 11, to be precise. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, washing machines and dryers are frequently portals to Heck.
Rich Barr
massivemaple@hotmail.com
AOL Instant Messenger: Hrttannl
***sunbear: {{Is there such a thing as eternity?Infinity?}}
I’m afraid that’s classified.
***dougie_monty: {{"…mended socks??!" Hey! I wondered where my good black dress socks went!!}}
Level C, Area 11, to be precise. I’m sure you’ll be happy to know they have a very nice relationship with a pair of pantyhose, who just have a little runner in them.
As I’m sure you’ve guessed, washing machines and dryers are frequently portals to Heck.
Rich Barr
massivemaple@hotmail.com
AOL Instant Messenger: Hrttannl
Another fictitious woman I created was a Dutch woman, married, named Loora Oranjeboom. (Spelling subject to correction by Dutch speakers.) She is not simply a male fantasy; she has a freewheeling attitude toward sex which perhaps is normal to Continentals–they may consider US uptight and straightlaced on the matter.
Anyway, Loora has four children–two older boys and two younger girls. the younger boy is 16-year-old Jan, and–no sugar coating here–she had sex with him once, putting a severe strain on her marital relationshoip with her husband Petrus. 
The fifth and last of these is a mother of five named Jane Bradley. She has an adoring husband, and is a beauty nearly six feet tall, with golden brown hair, creamy complexion, and large blue eyes; she also has a bust so large she might actually carry something (a stalk of celery or a rolled-up newspaper) in it! Actually, I know of no real women, whatever their endowment, carrying something that way…although Slug Signorino, in one Straight Dope book, did show a woman stacking pancakes on her bosom!
“If you drive an automobile, please drive carefully–because I walk in my sleep.”–Victor Borge