Names, Names~ Rambletimes.

When I was in high school, I took a Creative Writing class.  My philosophy teacher said it would benefit me, having been a great supporter of anything his students took an interest in, so I did so.  While I believe that these courses likely do some good for people, I never enjoyed it.  Well, that’s a lie.  I enjoyed listening to the stories others created, but after being marked down for my stories being ‘too dark’ (the content not being unlike supernatural shows found on NBC and WB these days), I just took a passive stance and reveled in the gender inequality that allowed the male students to write firsthand accounts of someone ready to commit suicide.

Funnily enough, though, that’s not what I’m writing about today.  When I was in that class, before my discouragement set in heavily, I used some of my near and dear characters of the time for one of the assignments.  Now, I still have these characters, though their personalities and stories have changed dramatically.  That’s why this still bothers me for the silliest of reasons.