It seemed then that Carrie would be a fairly despicable character, although what really attracted me to writing her was the potential for humour in her incompetence - the opening scene of Giving up the Ghost is all about this. The character of Dean was initially envisaged as a way to mock Carrie further, the ultimate irony for an utter fraud being to have their lies come true. But as the two characters began to talk, Carrie developed into a deeper character than the callous and calculating mercenary who stood on a stage and lied to desperate people. As soon as I introduced Mary and concluded that they were sisters, Carrie's whole back story materialised. Both Carrie's and Mary's views are extreme and potentially alienating to the average audience member - but as intense reactions to a childhood trauma, they become both more understandable and more compelling.
Entirely unintentionally, mothers and our relationships with them are a major theme in Giving up the Ghost, so the fact that Claudette will be six months pregnant when we perform at the Fringe only adds new layers to Carrie's character - you might almost imagine it was intentional.