I am writing about this girl. She is 17 and starved for love, affection, some validation of her existence. She is not co-operating. I want her to be snivelling, sad, grateful and nice. She is, instead, jealous, manipulative and a bitch. Maybe that is more realistic for someone whose mother is dead and whose father is a drunken abuser (cheery, huh?)
But damn it! I am the writer. Me! The Creator. It is no hubris to say I created her. Created Shashi. And she is refusing to be written the way I want her to be written. She's a bitch.
Maybe I'll kill her. That'll teach her. *chortles evilly*