The greatest benefit in being a character is that you are made of words. A story can only say that you get hurt or killed. What really happens to a character when the story goes, "He tumbled down a steep flight of cement stairs in a bundle of flailing arms and legs, snapping his neck and the number two pencil in his pocket. He lost his career and his girlfriend because of that fall, and most definitely his life. He was, in fact, dead." ? Is the assuredly dead character just standing offstage in metafictional space, waiting for the sequel novel to reveal that he didn't really die from falling down those treacherous stairs, that he is alive and well, and that he is indeed the father of some estranged woman's child?
Another benefit of being a fictional character is that you are blessed with instantaneous travel. With two words, "you're there!" No downtime, no lag. What a marvel life would be if we could all be where we wanted to be.
I spent over twenty hours hopping between planes and terminals today. At every security checkpoint I passed through, I was stopped so that the laptop I was carrying could be tested for explosive residue (thanks Angela). On my first flight to LA, I gave up my comfy window seat so that a husband could sit next to his wife and newborn daughter, rather than across the aisle from them. On the flight to Japan, I broke my six year vegetarian diet by eating fish and meat, which did a number on my stomach. I didn't sleep more than an hour at a time during the journey, what with the excitement and commotion of everything. Despite being so worn and beaten by the entire ordeal, the one thing I never forgot was my camera.
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