Angels with Demons

It may sound scary, but having my worldview utterly torn apart and reconstructed might just be the greatest thing that ever happened to me.

I’ll never forget it. I was sprawled out on the floor of my grandmother’s sewing room, reading this crazy-good book that my mom had picked up for me on our last trip to “the city.” It was called Princess Academy, and I loved loved loved this Shannon Hale who had written it as if she knew me. Back then, it was a stand-alone novel. Now, it’s part of a magical trilogy. You can read my full recommendation here.

But back to the story at hand. There I was, reading, distantly aware that I was perfectly happy, when the chapter ended, and I looked up to readjust my eyes to the slowly dying light outside.

And there she was– Miri. She was there. Right in front of me. Sitting. Smiling like she wanted to laugh at the expression on my face.

The protagonist of Princess Academy was in my room, and I could see her.

I looked back down at the open book out of which she’d crawled without my noticing. When I looked up again, she was sitting beside her sister, Marda, and their friend, Peder. I could see them, too. Also smiling like it was the most natural thing in the universe for them to leave their world and enter mine.

It took me some time to stand up and walk to the kitchen for dinner. Part of me hoped some food would help me through what was obviously reading overdose. Most of me wanted to be sure Miri was still in my house.

Sure enough, when I opened my book an hour later, out popped Miri, Marda, Peder and several other characters. It was like watching two movies at the same time. In my experience, that’s what changing your worldview feels like.

Sooner than I’d imagined (since I hadn’t imagined it at all), I could see all of the characters in Princess Academy that I wanted to, and as I began to explore other stories with equally vivid characters, my house started to feel crowded by these people that no one else could see. The faster I empathized–or simply sympathized–with characters from numerous worlds, the faster they appeared to me.

One morning, years after Miri’s smiling face had jumped off the pages of her book, I realized that I finally understood what it is to walk with the underlying knowledge that we are never alone.

I can’t count the times that I’ve run, laughing, or crying, or bubbling over, or angered, or fearful, into my room, only to be met with the face of an invisible person who knew exactly how I felt. Almost like an angel. A whole host of angels that understood not just me but thousands, millions of other readers. Talk about togetherness. How can even a thousand people be so connected?

Because our angels have demons. Keeping faith did not come naturally to Rilla Blythe; she lost one of her dearest friends before learning how to do that. Lou Clark did not learn to love boldly overnight; she, too, lost someone. Annabeth Chase could not have taught me to face my fears head on if she had never had to do so herself.

These people and their authors inspired me to understand and empathize with others, and as a result, I never consider my own character outlines complete until I can see my characters from the inside out. If I can’t see them, can’t hear them laugh, can’t ask them to tell me their story, then they aren’t ready to be introduced to you. Until they’re ready to be someone’s angel, I have to keep looking for their demons.

I am beyond excited to share my characters with you, dear reader. Until then, know that there is always someone who understands, whether or not you can see them yet. As Cicero once said, “While there’s life, there’s hope.”