It’s said that if someone is talking about you, your ears will burn. But what if the conversation is more one-sided? What if that person is writing, or composing, swirling colors and painting about you?
I think there is something to be said for the words spoken, or the actions taken that arise from the memory or thought of another. Whether that character is alive, or dead, or pressed onto pages in ink. Words and sculptures, oils and acrylics are tangible things, occupying physical space. And there is energy exerted, through brain waves, or the movement of human muscle, that ripples out into the universe. And that energy is then catalyst for more exchange, by two people talking, or one reading the words of another. So, in that sense, isn’t existence is equal across the board?
When I develop a character on the page, there is no consciousness to the person living within my mind. If anything, they are just an extension of my own consciousness. But if my story is then read, whoever I’ve coughed up onto the page can generate just as much measurable energy as the story of a ‘real’ person, someone living in the conventional sense. Given enough time, all things are equally alive.