When Trevor Wolff came into existence, I tried to get rid of him. “This is Mitchell and Kerri’s story,” I said. “It’s beautiful. They are an artist and a rocker who are each other’s muses. This is a romantic tale, even though it’s not a romance.”
Trevor, ever true to form, didn’t listen.
“Look,” I said. “For this plot line to work, you are dead. Get that? Dead. D. E. A. D. Dead.”
Trevor waggled a finger at me and told me I’d see. He told me to have patience, something he’s particularly bad about having.
And gosh darn it, the man was right.
For a long time, I hated that. I mean, hello? He’s fictional. He’s not real. Shouldn’t I, as the writer, be the one in charge?
You’d think… until you start filling a blog with Trevor Wolff and his cohort and best friend, Mitchell Voss, and come to find out that … your readers adore Trevor. So much that they still, to this day, invite him over to their blogs. Who wants the writer when they can have the rock star?
When a character comes along who resonates with people so utterly, I suppose it ultimately doesn’t matter where he came from. It doesn’t matter that people who know my public persona view Trevor as a more extreme version of myself.
Nope, what matters is bringing Trevor to the greatest number of people possible. What matters is being able to sit back with the satisfaction that this guy who no one wanted, not even his creator, has touched so many. Even the cover for The Demo Tapes: Year 3 was done for me by one of his fans. Yes, that’s him there in the wifebeater. He’s an entirely different creature from the man on the cover of Trevor’s Song, the full-length novel he stars in.
It’s amazing how we all view the same person in different ways. It’s even more amazing that it’s Trevor, the man who sprang to life, unbidden and unwanted, who has become the backbone of my fictional world. I don’t know where he came from, but I’m glad he’s here.
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