It's monday and how do you like your humble pie?

I play in a softball league every Monday. Tonight I struck out. It's a sickening feeling, swinging that bat and hitting nothing but air. Yeach.

Speaking of humble pie, I've noticed that one thing common to my characters is that they're all flawed. Lilith is an out-of-practice witch, grumpy, and bad with directions. Penelope is self-centered and not quite a knockout in the looks department.

They've all got good qualities too but I like that they're flawed. I've been reading a book where there's one character that is just perfect. She's clearly the author's ideal person in every respect. And you know what? I really don't like her. For me to love a character I need to be with them when they blow it, when they're tired and grumpy. Then I'll be excited when they finally get things right. I understand that some characters must be more noble than others but at least make them dress funky or have an ugly mole, or something. Throw me a frickin' bone here!

Something that I wrote, that I liked:

“Magic’s nice, you know,” he said, his voice soft. “I could’ve brought an army to New Camelot. I could’ve made the streets run with the blood of every man, woman and child - all that gory stuff. But magic-” He snapped his fingers and suddenly a red rose appeared in his palm. Penelope had never seen a color so exquisite, every velvety petal seemed to be a jewel; but it was already fading; indeed now it was quite wilted. She watched as the rose crumbled to fine dust in seconds. With a puff he blew the dust from his palm into the wind. “Magic is so elegant. So clean. I spoke and everyone in New Camelot slept. No blood, no screaming, no pain. You should thank me for that!”