A while back I wrote about my top five fears. One of those fears was midgets. Seriously, when I get near a little person I have this instinct to either kick them or hide. But since I can’t kick them and usually can hide from them (they fit all the places I can go and probably are small enough that they can hide in my hiding spot) I get nervous that they’re going to attack. I become this paranoid wreck thinking that I’m going to die in the next ten minuets. And then I start to hyperventilate.
Sometimes I wish I could kick any midget that I see so that I wouldn’t have to look like I was having some sort of bad drug trip in public.
I should take this moment to say that I have nothing against little people. I’m just freaking terrified of abnormally short people and I don’t know why.
So imagine my horror when I started to read George R.R. Martin’s A Game of Thrones series and a midget is one of the story tellers…I’ll give you a minuet to imagine that. For those of you who don’t know me: I have an overactive imagination. After watching The Hills Have Eyes 2 with my dad I refused to wander away from him when we went woodcutting later that day for fear of one of us being snatched. The couple time I’ve been in the states, I refuse to walk near those freaky storm drains because I’m scare the clown from IT will snatch me and kill me. Oh and once I read some horror novel by Richard Laymon when I was living alone and had to make a friend come spend the night with me because I nearly peed myself in fear every time I heard a noise that wasn’t my blaring TV that I’d turned on to keep me safe. I’ll give you another minuet to imagine what I’d be like having to read about a midget every other chapter for an entire series…
The first night after starting the series and reading about the Imp, I had nightmares about midgets chasing me and cutting off my skin to wear as a kilt. It has nothing to do with what I had read, but the idea of midgets were in my head and…*SHUDDER*…it was enough. I had to do something to get the image of a cunning little person trying to stab me in my sleep.
So I starting picturing Tyrion as the midget from the Austin Powers movies.
It sort of ruins the books because they keep writing about how he looks and I sort of skip over those parts so that I can keep imagining Mini Me plotting, scheming and waddling about because…
Well, because these books are so freaking good that I can’t put them down.
Have you ever pictured a character in a novel differently from the way he or she or it was described? How come?