Oddly Unfamiliar

I find it odd that I do a lot of visual research (looking at comics, studying details in real life, looking closely at scenes...) when my focus is writing.

In any case, an slow suspicion has built up through these past few days that I hope will disperse soon, but I fear it might not. I do not think I know how to write girls as well as I can write anything else, be it boys or furry kitties. In fact, I find it sometimes I wish I could write girls as furry kitties. It may be easier. Let me explain.

Despite growing up with lady friends most of my life, I find that at times, the descriptions of what I imagine a character to be just do not come naturally. Too often, the girls I write come out as some sort of heroine. Unique in the universe she lives in, she somehow has some transcending characteristic that she becomes a bit unreal. The quality makes it hard for readers to identify with the character. Subsequently, she loses a lovable nature, and instead makes her rather seem like some deity that commands worshipers.

Perhaps I can reconcile this by saying that all the lady friends I've had in my life were probably some heroine. I honestly do not believe it to be too far from the truth.

Whatever the reason, the fact remains that I need some characters to not be so independent, so amazing. I need to find a way to write some shred of weakness, some factor that makes an average guy fall in love with the lady in question, instead of making him into a devout follower of her commands. A lady that's real, tangible, fallible but determined. A lady that a guy may want to hold instead of just be blinded by her radiance?

For now, I'll believe that this may just be a phase. Like the phase I had with swordsmen. They all ended up to be brooding, silent, deadly blades of cold righteousness.
_____

She studied the swordsman before her. His travel robes, loose and graceful, swirled with the wind. He said nothing. Silence filled the air. Unfathomable, his eyes tried to bore into her mind. She smiled at this, amused. He seemed relaxed, though ready. Nothing else in the world mattered for these two.

Even time stood still.

"What's the matter? Haven't you seen a lady before?" She said.

"I have." He responded.

"Then what's the matter? Silence isn't attractive."

"You are in my way."

"And you are in mine, mister. What are you gonna do about it?" She questioned. Her eyes narrowed, but her grin widened.

He started to draw his sword. It inched out, as if giving her time to reconsider. She waited, determined. A cold sad smile appeared on the swordsman's face, a smile that did not touch his eyes. Then, as the sword was drawn halfway, she stopped him.

"Hold it there, mister righteous silence." She said, pulling out a brush.

"I duel poems."