"This has been great joy, yea, the Work of Men!"

I managed to get back to writing in the evening, and I was able to get back into the present story and play the protagonist and the other characters. Because I create my heroes from within myself, I'm totally the inside-out type of writer. I'm very adept and spontaneous at transforming my inner tensions into someone else. (Not all my heroes are human, but I can even play them if I spend enough time with them.) For my current story, I have an easy job because I have human characters and I've set the fictional medieval world as a backdrop, based on real historical European kingdoms. As I live in a country that was once also a kingdom and full of historical memories, it is not so difficult to imagine the world that gives the background to the story, and I supplement my own subject knowledge with recent reading on the subject. But world-building is less important than the acting of the characters, because it is true that the story is derived from the characters, shaped by their choices and the way they interact, and the protagonist, in the face of opposing forces, is also striving towards his goal, while having to discover his true needs and the hidden flaws he must reveal in himself if he is to achieve his goal. Yep, I write character-driven drama even if I'm otherwise writing technically somewhere between 4-5 on a list of ten, which is a far cry from classic fiction. But I take the dynamics between the characters very seriously, as they hide their true intentions and go give and take, sometimes helping each other, sometimes playing off each other, and I simultaneously produce and enjoy the story. When I can see through the eyes of the author and the protagonist at the same time, because they're both me, huh, my mind spins at top speed. Then, when I've completed a task in the weaving of the story, I drop the serotonin bomb and start one of the songs I've chosen for the story and I celebrate. 
I take Robert McKee's textbook Story seriously. I've read it twice so far, and I've made notes on the chapters. I always have the second note with me, because I read it when I get stuck. The question of the dilemma has made me think particularly deeply. Because Robert McKee is absolutely right that the protagonist does not have to choose between right and wrong, but must make a choice in which he also suffers loss and fully understands and accepts the consequences of his choice. I have succeeded in creating four choices for Alexander Ravenwood, and each is more chaotic than the last. One in particular is life-threateningly risky, but as Alexander is 17, and therefore full of adolescent verve, he considers even that a possibility. Then common sense prevails, and he chooses the one that the opposing forces originally intended for him, but Alexander has made a plan for himself by now and the "battle of kings" has begun. Even though Alexander, because of his original gender, has no chance in this fight. The story reveals what on earth I have dreamed up and what kind of story I have written. I may be writing a pulpfiction with a many of sex scenes, but this is a character-driven drama in which the brutality of life flashes out from among the many little bits of bait-and-switch. 
Meanwhile, Alexander is a minor character in the story of his little brother Gabriel, where the preparations for war between the kings are already in full swing. Alexander's story is Moonviolet, Gabriel's is The Red Prince, which I also call Twisted Red. 
Classic storytelling, great play is still amazing fun that can enthrall and enchant. It's really amazing to be an author and a hero at the same time, running my real life in parallel with fictional lives and seeing both the real and the never-been, what yet so familiar as I am creating myself from myself.

P.S.: The title of this entry is the last line of a Hungarian poem, Mihály Vörösmarty, from Thoughts in the library. Because that is my motto as a creator.