An unexpected betrayal

The last post talked about getting my protagonist out of the hospital, but I don't think I lived up to that promise. She's still there. Mary Fletcher languishes still, wondering if her life will ever be the same. Early in the dark hours of morning, Sam Terwillager comes to see her. He is a Sheriff's Deputy for Six Rivers County and her trusted friend. He greets her with haiku, something he does on ocassion. What I, as the writer, didn't see coming is a rift between the two that developed out of the dialog. But it had to be so. The previous action could not tolerate anything else. The emotional impact left me breathless. The turn was not pleasant, still, it is my job to put my characters into conflict.

I know other writers sometimes are surprised by such happenings. I also wonder if some writers fight this flow and try to direct it elsewhere. From what I've heard, though, I believe most go with the flow.

Such is life. We can plan and plot and fight, but in the end, life deals with us as it will. No way can we plan for accidents, or unknown genetic weaknesses that catch up with us, or whatever. Sometimes we lose everything and have to start over. I've had to do that more than once. It hurts, but it rarely kills--at least, not right away. My good friend, Chuck, tells me that from now on, I'm on borrowed time, so make the most of it.

Mary will do this. She'll realize that she is now on borrowed time and, if I know her, she'll make the most of it.

Happy Thanksgiving. I wish you enough.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Brewing Storm

Suspense is one thing in a mystery novel, but a writer can't forget the “pay-off.” A month or more ago, I led our founding father of Six Rivers County, Stanislaus Rittenhaur, and his new bride, Ellen, to the hinterlands of the rainy north coast of California. They left San Francisco behind. Unbeknownst to the happy couple, one disgruntled ex-beau, Randy Galvan, followed them. He had escaped, running from the law. That's where I left it. Suspenseful, and I'm sure you'd like the long awaited pay-off. Mr. and Mrs. Rittenhaur settled into their new home, built on the edge of a vast forest. The winter months were spent planning landscaping: a kitchen garden with herbs as well as park-like landscaping.They rattled around in the huge house, dreaming of little Rittenhaurs to fill it. And, yes, the fair Ellen was with child, glowing with happiness. Supplies were ordered, most coming by way of the merchant who prospered with all the commerce bound for the mansion in the wilderne...
Read more

Getting My protagonist out of the hospital

Recently, I traveled down the coast to Eureka. I had some banking business to take care of and I decided to do a little research for Smoked. In one scene, the protagonist and friends meet at a Crescent City, CA Starbucks. It has been a long time since I'd been there, I couldn't remember a lot of the details, so I took notes. It gave me a surge of energy to be doing something proactive in getting the fine points right. However, since this is my first draft, I know I'll have a lot of fine points to rewrite. But, that's what writing a book is all about. On the trip, I found out that I had gotten some geographical locations in the wrong county, so I definitely will have to redo those. As Bill and I were traveling along the North Coast, I imagined my characters negotiating the terrain. Most importantly, how will Mary get back to Six Rivers County (SRC) from her hospital stay in Del Norte County? What would be going through her head as she is driven through the tunnels of r...
Read more

Tight rope writing

Where do you find that place between cliché and innovation? In genre fiction, especially mysteries, there is a certain expectation on the part of the reader for elements specific to that genre. I finished writing the 43 rd chapter of Smoked yesterday. In it, I have used a cliché and then dismissed it. The following is a scene in the interrogation room, Sam Terwillager trying to get information out of the prime suspect, Otis Carter. “You don’t have to answer that,” said Harlow, his voice raspy and his eyes never leaving the table top. Carter waved the cliché away. “Jimmy walked ten miles to call Didi to tell her someone took the truck.” One of my critique readers registered her approval. “Use a cliché and then dismiss it for what it is.” (Or something to that effect.)   I hadn’t given it a thought, but I took in what she said. It made me think about writing detective fiction and how to be realistic as well as inventive. But, when a lawyer is advising his client i...
Read more