Monday morning, June 22nd.
I woke that morning, thinking maybe there's a bear outside.
I looked out my window and ... nothing.
A few minutes later, the same thought.
This time, when I looked out my window there was a bear. IN THE TREE.
I spent almost an hour watching the bear, who proceeded to climb down and then lumber around the yard looking for tasty treats. Apparently my landlord had left out one tiny dish from a Father's Day cookout.
I named the bear Bruno. I've since had two more encounters with her/him. Once while out on a mindfulness walk and the other driving home. I will never get tired of seeing a bear in the wild!
I find it interesting how we have the almost primal urge to name things.
One of the most fun things about writing a novel is all the naming that must occur.
Do you have a system for naming characters? Do you change names of characters?
And what have you named that isn't alive?
My mum, whilst being wooed by my dad, took one look at his rather forlorn auto and promptly named it Puget, the sound car.
Of course they lived in Seattle.