In the office of Dr Miles Benonico, a character is reclining on his sofa. This is her third session with the prominent therapist.
Dr: You seem to mention your author quite frequently.
Jo: She leaves me with no option.
Dr: Is that how you feel?
Jo: I think anybody would feel like that if they knew for certain that their whole life was being played by a puppeteer as if it was some kind of entertainment.
Dr: You sound like you resent her.
Jo: I don’t resent her… [sigh] Sometimes, though, I just feel a little underappreciated. And sometimes she gets these silly thoughts that circle around in her head for days and they eat away any noise I make to get attention.
Dr: So you’re saying she doesn’t give you enough attention?
Jo: [defensively] Sometimes… [folds arms] but I don’t mean that in a needy way. The problem is that she gets wrapped up in so much stuff and nonsense, because she’s worrying, that she forgets to write.
Dr: Doesn’t everybody get wrapped up sometimes? Do you?
Jo: [hesitantly] I’m not saying I don’t get wrapped up… but… but… sometimes life is more simple than you make it.
Dr: [raising eyebrow] Is that personal experience talking?
Jo: A little…
Dr: Would you care to elaborate?
Jo: She’d kill me off for sure if I did.
Dr: You seem to have a very bleak view of your author.
Jo: I think it’s because we sometimes need vacations from each other and we can’t get them.
Dr: Why not? Surely you could both switch off for a while?
Jo: She can only switch off a little bit and then she has this annoying gnawing sound that digs in, telling her she ought to do some writing.
Dr: Annoying gnawing sound?
Jo: Yeah. It’s like she feels guilty for taking a break or something. I’d leave her to it, but I live in this brain, you know? It’s like having constant noise pollution in reality.
Jo: Is ‘hmm’ good or bad?
Dr: It’s interesting.
Jo: What is?
Dr: You seem to have a lot of answers and know a lot of what is going on.
Jo: I do. It’s another annoying thing about her. She keeps telling me all that’s going to happen. I don’t have any surprises any more. It’s like my life has no meaning, if you can call it a life. [sigh]
Dr: Would you call it a life?
Jo: I’d call it a half life. I’m only half way to being alive and the rest of me is under her spell.
Dr: How do you mean?
Jo: I mean, it’s like she’s the real necromancer in all of this and I’m the clueless victim.
Dr: Well, I think that’s maybe our session ended for today. I’m sorry to cut your appointment so short, but we’ll schedule another soon. Just sort a time with my receptionist.
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