How are authors "stuck between floors"?

Writing is a lot like being on the floor of a pool and looking up: you can see the real world above, but it’s beautifully distorted. Below the water’s rippled surface life is slow, magnified, willing to allow additional movement to create a complex still-life shot. As author, below the surface you have permission to create your own concept of time, transforming the monotonous to miraculous.

It’s easy for a writer to get stuck between her real life and the lives of those she creates. Because one is an extension of the other, it is impossible not to be touched by an aspect of something, someone you’ve personally created; likewise, your characters have been bestowed with unlimited knowledge of your own life experiences. How many times have you written your neurosis and tics into a character? At a basic level we are parrots, mimicking the environment around us. Because words become engrained in the psyche, I feel it most natural to have literary heroes and villains through which we model certain aspects of ourselves after. From an author’s standpoint, because I so readily and often feed from my character’s truths, I find myself eerily comfortable residing in the “between floors”. However, I think you’ll find that most authors have a perfect chair sitting in that subtle space: it’s well-worn, there’s a warm pipe on the side table, and A Little Night Music blossoms in the jasmine-studded air.