My entire life has been a never-ending quest for real conversation. The people I like talking to the most are capable of truly talking to me. Conversation is valuable to me. I like to talk. I like to share ideas. I like to have random conversations. Some of the happiest times in my life were four hour phone calls with occasional kindred spirits, who enjoyed perusing as many different topics and going deeper into all of them. Oftentimes, those people were my “writing buddies.” Once, when working on a vampire novella with a friend, we stayed up super late on the phone discussing different elements of our ideas, coming up with new possibilities, divulging the secrets of the individual research we had done, and laughing. I was excited to talk to her. I couldn’t wait to do it again. In those carefree summer days, we had all the time in the world to exchange a flurry of e-mails. One a day, at the very least – sometimes, three or four.
That relationship, as all of them do, eventually faded. Our passion burned out. Our lives went in different directions. Our interests changed. Yet, those discussions forever cemented her in my mind as the person I could discuss all manner of vampire-related things with. To this day, when feeling a burning need to talk about anything relating to the blood-drinking undead, for a split second I think, “Gee, I wish could call…” Continue reading