Character Control

I recently finished the first draft of my second novel. It takes place three years after my first novel, Stay Back! ends. It’s a continuation of sorts and puts John Butterfield of Stay Back! in the midst of the September 11th attacks.
 
My husband read through the manuscript and shared his thoughts. He also asked some hard questions. Questions about the characters’ motives. Questions about plot nuances. And now I’m stuck. I’m at a fork in the road and need these characters to tell me what they want to do next. Alas, they’ve gone silent on me. I need to wait for them to talk, but I can’t wait forever or I’ll never get this book out there. So, my choices are: wait, or try to jam them into an as of yet undefined agenda. I’m leaning toward waiting.
 
Sometimes the characters I dream up become so real to me that I see and hear elements of them in random people who cross my path. A wayward tuft of hair. A particular way of walking. A vocal nuance. From a distance and up close these characters exist as if they walked off the page and into the world. And that’s precisely when they fledge and establish lives of their own. I simply must let them. Even if it means cooling my jets for a few days or weeks or however long it takes them to stir out of hibernation. 
 
I have to remind myself that once on paper, the characters are not mine to control. They want the freedom to do what they will – the freedom to live their lives outside of the boundaries on the roadmap in my head. And my characters' insistence on freedom and autonomy is what makes my job as a writer so difficult. Sometimes I want them to go north. Often, they want to go south. Sometimes we collide in the middle of the road like Dr. Seuss’ North Going Zax and South Going Zax and an impasse inevitably ensues. We stubbornly stand face to face, neither willing to step aside or compromise. Life happens all around us and nothing [worthwhile] gets written. Writer’s block soon follows and only breaks when I give in to their whims.