The fine line between weird and just plain nuts...

     This morning I sat here in front of my laptop organizing files and folders for the book I'm writing and other future projects and found myself working on character bios.  Some current, some to-be.  One of them is the mother of the protagonist in my current project.
     Her name is Norma.
     I have given a lot of thought to this character because while she won't spend much actual time in the series (At least as far as I have planned so far.) her presence will be felt quite a bit.  Norma is not a nice person.  In fact one might describe her as a raging cunt.  I don't normally like to use that word but if the shoe fits.  Through her cruelty and neglect she has inflicted things on the main character that will reverberate through out the series for quite awhile.  So far her character has solely existed only in my mind.  I've dredged up some pretty nasty things that she is going to do.  And for some reason beginning to fill out that character sheet I actually found myself experiencing a genuine emotion toward the character
     Hate.
     Or to be more precise, anger.  Taking that step toward making the character "real" made me think of every nightmarish thing I am going to have her inflict on Dean and I truly began to hate the bitch.
     The moment I realized what was going on I had to stop and reflect on the oddity of it.  Here is someone who does not never has, nor ever will, exist.  A thing of pure thought that I created, doing things that I have her doing and I despise her for it.  So here's the thing... did I just take a step closer to insanity or does that mean I am on the right track?  I've read of other authors becoming emotionally attached to certain characters, or at the very least claiming so, and personally doubted the validity of such a thing.  I mean having genuine emotions for something purely fictional seems a bit daft.  Can you really feel for something that doesn't exist?
     I think the answer is yes.  Using the 'Dresden Files' as an example I have become attached to the people Jim Butcher has brought to life.  The emotions I experience while reading them are not any less true because they don't actually exist.  So why wouldn't I feel something like that for the ones I create?  I want you the reader to feel what I feel when I read the works of others.  To laugh when they laugh, cry when they cry, love when they love.
     I feel like something happened to me at that moment.  It was one of those times that you look back on later and say, "That's when it changed.  From then on I was altered."
     I think I just became a real writer.