Writerly Dislocations - is writing like a dream state? And I attempt to come to terms with not being Mrs Tony Robinson.

There's a strange thing that happens when I'm writing.  It probably happens to all writers, but since I am not all writers, despite my many and varied experiments with rubber noses and different hats, I don't know.  So maybe some writers who are lovely and kind (the ones that take me aside and pat me gently when I am having one of my attacks of odd theories, or when I run out of chocolate, or when I'm just having a small, sob-laden moment about never becoming the next Mrs Tony Robinson or whatever)..

(can I have a quick chorus of 'It Should Have Been Me' please?), maybe some of them will come along and tell me whether I am the only person who suffers in this way.  Er.  I mean, the way about which I am about to elucidate you, not about the suffering because I'm not married to Tony Robinson way, obviously.  I am prepared to concede that I am one of a very small number of people who suffer in that particular way.  In fact, on a Venn Diagram of People, I fear I may be the only one in the middle of those overlapping circles, in that subset of People Who Are Upset that They Are Not Married To Tony Robinson.  I suspect that the contents of the other circles have actually crawled over to the far edges in order not to be associated with the subset that is me.

In fact, they all escaped.

But!  I did not come here to bemoan the fact that I may never get the chance to run my fingers through the hair of the delightful Tony! No! I came here to find out if other writers experience the same feelings that I do - and it's all right, I do not expect you to feel the same way about my beloved Tony.  In fact, if you did, I should have to hunt you down because I fear competition in the same way as I fear finding out that that the funny noise the hoover just made has coincided with the disappearance of a beloved, yet small, pet.

Writing.  It's a bit like being in a dream state.  When I am on a writing roll (not ham and cheese, although I do quite like smoked salmon and cucumber) I am completely immersed in the place and people I am writing about, and when I emerge, and for a while afterwards, I sometimes feel as though I am in the 'wrong place'.  You know like when you wake up after a particularly enthralling dream and you can't quite remember what is real?  As if, when I am writing, I actually am those people, in that place, and when I'm not I have to readjust to being me.  And still not married to Tony Robinson.  Huh.