As much as we’re in tune with each other’s visions, as much world building as we do, Olive and I still have to talk to each other constantly to figure out everything, from what a character is wearing in that moment, to what the inside of the room looks like, or why would they be hungry at an effed up time like this?!
Here’s a fictional example, but it mirrors many real life discussions:
“There’s no way he’d put that jacket on.” I insist.
“Why?” Olive responds.
“Because obviously, when he was six years old, the people that took him in were wearing blue, and now he associates that color with” etc etc I spout some bullshit I think is brilliant.
“… OR maybe the people made him wear blue all the time, but they always wore red. And didn’t let the poor bastard wear blue. Ever.” Olive keeps it going.
“Holy shit.” My head starts to hurt. But by god, she’s right. It just makes sense.
I suppose that’s the point that we’re both searching for when we have these conversations. That moment where we both say “Yeah that makes sense, in this fictional, complex world we’ve created, that makes total sense.”