characters welcome

from muse to mayhem

Apr 08, 2026

I’ve only been a muse once.1 During my semester in film school, all the students were assigned to make a short film and we all acted in each others projects. I’m not sure what about me inspired one of the students to write a character based on me; was it my prickly personality? my biting wit? my Daria vibe? or was it my tendency to find a corner and whip out my book at the slightest sign of a group hang? Whatever it was, I was honored and game to act in his short film. I had wanted to be an actress in my youth and this seemed like a fun way to spend the day. However now, I have very little memory of the movie making process except for the very last, disastrous shot which tried the patience of my (now regretful) director, co-star and the rest of the crew.

Let me set the scene:

INT. Apartment - Sunset

Me: 20 years old with not one romantic experience to my name.2

My costar: A fellow student I found quite off putting due to his tendency to interact with everyone as if he were delivering a Ted talk and also because he went by the name Magick. With a ‘K’.

The last scene was supposed to end with an almost kiss.3 We were to lean in and I was to whisper4 “beachcomber” and then it would cut to black. I have no memory of what “beachcomber” referred to nor why my character (inspired by me!) would say it in that context. It was supposed to look romantic, but I had never kissed anyone before and had no idea how to, nor any interest in figuring out how to, with someone who went by Magick. With a ‘K’. On the first take, as Magick5 leaned closer, closer and closer still6 with adoring eyes and amorous intent, I shrieked “BEACHCOMBER” and collapsed to floor, covering my head with my hands to ward off all of the pretend passion. I, and the entire student film crew, discovered that night that I possessed a primal fear of emotional and physical intimacy.7 But since this shot was ‘important to the story’, though it took a fair number of takes to stand still, grit out a sultry ‘beachcomber’ as Magick gazed deep into my eyes, I did it. At least I think I did. We checked the gate, ate tacos and I never, ever watched that short film. And I never, ever will. The last of my acting aspirations died along with my memory of what ‘beachcomber’ meant, but no matter. I discovered that directing and being the boss behind the scenes was much more my style.8

The haunting memory of that shoot has taken the place of any feelings I may have had about being the inspiration for a character, but I think must be a complicated situation to be a muse. And a complicated responsibility to have a muse. Who owns a story, an experience? What considerations must be taken when turning a person into art? What are the consequences for the artist and the muse, both intended and unintended? Whether control of the narrative is given or taken, the creator makes, the muse inspires and then the art is given to an audience resulting in another loss of control. All sorts of juicy stuff ripe for conflict, turmoil and drama! Which brings us to the books! Sitting on today’s shelf is a book where the main character’s ex-husband writes a novel that kills off a thinly veiled approximation of her, a rom-com about a woman who seeks escape from the Hollywood version of her love story and a novel about a TV writer so desperate for inspiration that she goes looking for it in a stranger’s subconscious.

Before you get acquainted with one of these, note that these are works of fiction. Names and characters are the products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.9

IF YOU LOVE IT, LET IT KILL YOU by Hannah Pittard

Hana just learned that her ex-husband has murdered her. Fictionally. His newest book includes a facsimile of her getting stabbed to death by a homeless person and while she refuses to read it, she also cannot. stop. thinking. about it. Her live-in boyfriend (NOT husband) Bruce, his daughter and her various family members, who all live within a block of her, are unable to keep her from mentally, emotionally and physically spiraling. Indeed, they actually push her further away from sanity. As she grapples with her fictional self, she encounters a flirtatious student, a talking cat and eventually realizes a deeply true, though entirely inconvenient, love for the characters in her own life.

Nodding at Bruce, he says, “How’s your roommate?” My father has called every man I’ve ever lived with, including my ex-husband, my roommate.

I would like not to be bothered by the news of my ex’s debut. I would like for Bruce not to have looked over my shoulder this morning only to find me reading an early review. I would like for him not to have said, “You’re obsessed,” and I would like for the obsession not to be true.

In my ex’s book, the ex-wife character is a commercial hack of whom he and his more intellectual friends make much fun. In his book, I am wildly successful and dull.

This book begins with a note “What follows is pure fantasy”, which is rich because of the three books on this shelf, this is the one that is actually somewhat based on a true story. I went down a rabbit hole of articles, think pieces and interviews but the gist is this: Once upon a time there were two couples who were the best of friends and eventually the husband from one of the couples had an affair with the wife of the other, so they all got divorced and the cheating couple married each other and since they were all writers, they wrote many books about it. Reading all the background paraphernalia isn’t necessary, but this context adds to the meta nature of this book so I think it is helpful to be aware of.

The voice took me a little while to ‘get’ but eventually I caught the rhythm and loved it, laughing aloud a number of times. Told in Hana’s10 singular, matter of fact first person voice, this is spastic, contradictory, brusque and frank with very dry humor. Topics, tangents, memories, imaginary scenarios and narrative devices appear out of nowhere as do nonlinear time jumps, previews, in text spoilers and direct reader address as Hana travels her “odyssey through the ordinary.” Maybe she’d be a pill in reality, but I gotta say I was always amused by her erratic internal monologue and the way she constantly warred with herself, fighting vulnerability, connection and an honestly examined life.

Tonight, as I lie awake in bed watching the light in the upstairs window of the house across the street, the window of my sister’s room, I think about permission. My ex didn’t ask permission to marry me off to my boyfriend in a piece of his fiction. He didn’t ask permission to write a novel about me. For that matter, I did not-while we were still married-ask his permission to write a novel about him, and certainly after our divorce, I didn’t ask his permission to write the story of our separation in my memoir. But the trespass feels different now that we are no longer together. This joint custody of our past has sneaked up on me, and I find I am unprepared.

Hana’s mother, father and sister all moved into her neighborhood recently and they are just as absurd as she is. If I remember correctly, the only character that is named is her boyfriend Bruce, and she tells us she is just calling him that, it isn’t his real name. Hana and Bruce are “married only in their hearts” as she refuses to get re-married after her traumatic divorce11 and he plays the straight man, a stand in for the audience as he watches everyone else treat a tornado like a drizzle. Or sometimes, a drizzle like a tornado. I was tickled by the irony of meeting many entrancing characters—that the author obviously relished recounting— while Hana writhed in self-pity to be characterized in her ex’s novel, deciding that the best way to deal with this is to create, and doggedly pursue, a personal crisis. While plot beats occur, this is mostly a sweet, saucy and scattered internal monologue (often about the “disadvantages of privilege”) with bizarrely inventive elements and some truly touching moments. Running in the background of all the nonsense is a lovely sentiment that slowly grows more pronounced, culminating in ending which honestly surprised me with its sincerity. (spoiler?)12

“My ex has written a book about me. About him and me. But haven’t read it yet.”

Ooh! purrs the tabby, licking itself again. Drama! Drama! Drama!

“It’s fiction. So I can’t disagree with it. Because it’s not real. But the fake me—the one he invented doesn’t come across well. That’s what I’ve heard. And it’s driving me kind of mad, you know? Being someone else’s character and having no say in the matter.”

How are you?

“In real life?”

In the book.

“Smug. Narcissistic. Vaguely unhinged.”

How are you in real life?

“Smug. Narcissistic. Vaguely unhinged.”

need more books on your nightstand? subscribe and share!

LIKE THIS, BUT FUNNIER by Hallie Cantor

Caroline is a TV writer who would actually like to be writing for TV thank you very much. With her professional and creative life stubbornly stagnant, she avoids the blinking cursor on her screen by stalking her more successful contemporaries, coming up with increasingly ludicrous story ideas and wondering if she actually wants a baby or just wants to want one. Working from home with little social life, a highlight of her day is dishing with her therapist husband Harry about his clients, especially The Teacher. Though he respects patient confidentiality, Caroling enjoys the chance to revel in someone else’s drama while she has so little of her own. When she comes across Harry’s patient notes and learns a particularly juicy tidbit about her favorite parasocial relationship, she desperately drops the information as a plot point idea in a pitch session. Soon, this idea she stole from The Teacher’s private therapy session is well on its way to becoming a TV show with Caroline becoming increasingly dependent on The Teacher’s life for story ideas. When finds herself friends with The Teacher in real life and hiding more and more from Harry, she realizes she is in a quagmire entirely of her own making that, while career defining, may come at too high a price.

This was written by an Arrested Development writer so I was primed to like it from the start. Her author’s note at the top, about her experience as a ‘successful’ TV writer who felt mired in self doubt, constantly battling an inner critic who wouldn’t stop giving her notes, made me giddy to dive in and I was not disappointed. This is a very entertaining read filled with the relatable messiness of being human, the ever teetering balancing act of ambition and art as it collides with reality and the constant journey towards understanding, accepting and maybe even liking oneself. The tone here is consistently funny and clever, though it isn’t a ‘wit a minute’ type voice. It is down to earth and realistic as Caroline wanders an internal labyrinth populated with imposter syndrome, low grade depression, career frustrations, artistic blocks, friendship deserts and a tendency to be a snob with low self esteem.13 Her talent as a TV writer is clear as she has a propensity to take one event, as minor as an email or a side-eye, and develop episodes and seasons worth of plot ideas in her mind which is both a blessing and a curse. Caroline is messy, complicated and difficult but not ‘unlikable’ and not an utter trainwreck. Her shenanigans were ridiculous and amusing, but never too slapstick or overly cartoonish. I loved how this was grounded in true to life emotions within the very extra world of Hollywood pilot season.

This was obviously written with someone who had personal experience in the TV industry as it often had a satirical edge to its name drops and insider lingo. I was endlessly amused by the fake TV shows, Marvel spin-offs and movie pitches that populated the world— they were oddly compelling while also being completely absurd. There was one chapter that is just email exchanges, studio notes and a forever in limbo drinks date that had me wiping away tears of laughter. But I was also tense, wracked with anxiety about how it would all turn out for Caroline as she dug herself deeper and deeper into a hole. While her choices were incredibly foolish, and highly amusing from the safety of a page, they came from a very understandable dilemma and a deeply personal place. I appreciated the intra and inter personal elements here and loved the book’s ending. Oh, and the cover is great right?

The fragment she’d glimpsed earlier, scribbled in Harry’s middle-school-boy handwriting, read:

Dream: strangles students’ parents> meat grinder > school garden >Anger

Caroline looked away, for good this time. Guilt zipped through her like electric voltage. She slipped the keyboard into its prior position and closed the drawer without taking the blue-light glasses. She pushed Harry’s chair back under his desk and sat down in her own, glancing at his side of the room to make sure it looked like it had before. Blood rushed in her ears. Her adrenaline surged like she’d just found out someone was mad at her.

The Teacher had had a murder dream!

in addition to telling you what to read, i also edit podcasts and fiction. got a project?

vist my website and let's chat

CHERRY BABY by Rainbow Rowell

Originally Tom’s autobiographical webcomic Thursday was just a hobby, a creative escape from his soul draining, corporate job. But when he met Cherry and started to include her in the story, his little doodles soon became a phenomenon. People couldn’t get enough of ‘The Guy’ and ‘Baby’ and their charming love story went from a weekly online comic to bestselling graphic novels and now, a big Hollywood movie. But, what the public doesn’t know is that Tom and Cherry’s real life love story is over—they’ve been separated for a year with Tom in LA and Cherry home in Omaha. As the movie’s release date approaches and Tom returns home to pack up his belongings, Cherry decides she’s ready to move on from Tom, on from ‘Baby’ and become something new. When she runs into an old college crush who has never heard of Thursday and their initial flirtation turns into something deeper, Cherry realizes she needs to confront some truths about ‘Baby’, herself and her marriage if she’s really going to move forward.

While this has some larger than life elements—movie premieres! press junkets! an intensely chaotic family! over the top fashion!— it had multidimensional, realistically flawed characters and a rich emotional landscape. I was charmed and invested all the way through and while it was endearing, it wasn’t saccharine. Rather it felt fizzy, cozy and had a maturity in its dialogue, emotions and scene set ups that I find lacking in most modern romances. The plot went to unexpected places and I throughly enjoyed the weight, realism and specificity of the characters— it had to work hard at times to get me on board with certain elements and accomplished it well, even as I (initially) fought it. Cherry’s relationship with the comic character she inspired, ‘Baby’, is complicated and evolves as she does. For most of the character’s existence she has tried to keep ‘Baby’ at bay even as the comic’s popularity grew, but eventually she has to wrestle with the interesting and important question of separating the art from the artist —if she should, if she can and how to do that. As she explores her relationship to the Thursday comic, to the characters of ‘Baby’ and ‘The Guy’, she’s also got to grapple with the public’s relationship to them (and her) and how she relates to herself and her marriage within that maelstrom. Though there’s no easy answer for Cherry’s particular quandary, this had a solid balance of playful escapism, cultural commentary, character exploration and emotional depth.

One of the themes here is Cherry’s fatness; she is unapologetic about it and I appreciated the matter of fact, approachable way the author writes about it. Though Cherry embraces her size, loves to express herself with fashion and comes from a family of fat women there are still layers for her to unpack. Part of her unease with the character of ‘Baby’ is how she’s drawn in the comic —with a double chin, very wide hips and large breasts— and how she, Cherry, becomes recognizable to complete strangers because of how her husband chose to sketch her. I appreciated Cherry’s late 30s life crisis, her dynamic with her many sisters14, her eccentric style choices and, while she could often be frustrating, she was also relatable and realistic. There were hot sex scenes and some suspenseful, tangible tension as Cherry wrestled with the past and the present. The slow, intentional character work and relationship crafting had me rooting, almost against my will, for an outcome that at first I definitely did not want. I always felt in capable hands as Rowell methodically worked to get the reader feeling close to Cherry’s choices, even if we’re not always in perfect lockstep with them. While there were a few scenes I wish had been included and I felt regretful for certain characters’ resolutions, I enjoyed this adorable, life and love affirming romance.

Cherry was not Baby.

Baby was a supporting character in a cult webcomic turned blockbuster graphic novel turned major motion picture.

Baby was a drawing.

She looked like Cherry. She talked like Cherry. Sometimes she did things that Cherry did. Sometimes she said the exact same things that Cherry had said.