My Stupid Mouth

I’m an open-mouth-insert-foot type of girl. The things that fly out of my mouth sometimes can’t be controlled by a zip of the lips and throw away the key gesture. What I have to say just bursts through my cinched lips without pause. Not all the time, but most of the time.

You might not want to ask me to go jeans shopping with you. A simple: “Be honest. Do these make me look fat?” Might come out as: “Not fat, but more like an overstuffed sausage.” Followed by an awkward giggle and a shrug of the shoulders as the realization of my words hits my snoozing brain.  

I’ve even been defriended—by my own brother—on Facebook because of my wayward mouth (or fingers, in that case). I don’t have a big attention span, so maybe that’s to blame. I don’t intend to hurt anyone’s feelings, but when someone says: “Tell me the truth” or “Be honest with me” I follow instructions. I need to learn that what a person really wants is for me to tell them what she wants to hear. But setting my friends up for failure or ridicule doesn't bode well for me.

I had a dream last night. In it, I was a single girl (sorry, honey) hanging out with my friends. My girlies and I were sitting around a pool and checking out some fellas. This was a dream, so I expected Leo DeCap to pop by or Hugh Jackman to visit from downunda’, but no . . . I got someone entirely different. 

“He’s cute,” my one dream friend said.

The dude made eye contact and strutted toward us; I could nearly hear the Bee Gees ah, ah, ah, ahing  in my mind with each step. He was tall, bronzy, and cute. I smiled and sat straighter. The cool part was that, in my dream, I was able to fit into a bikini without looking like a pork roast with those tight strings cinched around it (see, I’m honest with myself too). So Mr. Tall and Bronzed sat down on a chaise and smiled. He had a great smile—if you like ultra white choppers, which I do.

This turned out to be a pretty good dream, until I saw something fuzzy out of the corner of my eye. The George Hamilton twiner turned and I saw more than fuzz.

“Something’s on your back,” I screamed and fell off my chair. Even in my dreams, the threat of creepies and crawlies haunt me.

He jumped to his feet and turned around, revealing not a rat or a big arse spider, but a patchwork of thick back hair.

“Ewe, back hair,” I said.

My friends gasped from the shock of the little rugs on his back and my overexaggerated reaction. The dream ended there. I’m not sure if it was a lesson to keep my trap shut or something else. In a real-life "here comes the back hair" setting, I'd like to think I wouldn't embarrass the dude. My loose tongue usually just comes out when I’m asked a question.

Anyway, this had me thinking about characterization and consistency. I’ve read a few books where a character starts one way then does something I would’ve never predicted. Granted, I think we all do things out of character, at times, but for the most part, we are consistent. If I’m a bit too honest for my own good, then chances are I will be that way throughout—even in my dreams.

I have a MC that does something totally out of character in my WIP. After meeting hairy back hair man, I think I need to go back and make sure I’m being true to her. And in the mean time, I (holds up my right hand) will try my bestest to zip my lip. If you run into me just remember not to start our conversation with a plea for honesty and all should be good--I hope.  

**Also, if I've offended anyone with back hair, I appologize. I'm not perfect either(remember the pork roast line). It was just a dream and back hair ain't so bad, especially in the wintertime. Yeah? 

What do you think? Are you staying true to your characters? 

Here's a bit o' John Mayer singing my theme song.