This is in some ways an add-on to my post on Signs. I spent most of yesterday sitting in the emergency room with a friend and watching dozens of people’s life dramas play out under the blare of daytime television, reeking of second-hand cigarette smoke and old sweat. By the time I got home for good around 9 PM, I didn’t feel much like posting.
I’m plowing through The Truth About Fiction, which I posted a little about here. Most of the book is pretty basic, which is okay; it’s supposed to be for introductory creative writing classes — which is the ONLY way the publisher can get away with charging an arm and two legs for it, IMO.
I’m struggling with my boring old main character Becca, and I got to watch a lot of humanity yesterday. This line from the book jumped out and danced for me when I read it:
The choices the character makes should be irrevocable. If he can go back, where’s the tension?
Choices that don’t matter that much is why Becca is so boring, and and having made irrevocable choices is why so many people were hanging around the emergency room on a bright sunny day.