I'm working on my second novel and I was close to tying up all the loose ends when I got this terrible feeling. I ignored it for a while, hoping it would go away, but it didn't.
One of my central characters, one that I dearly loved was going to have to die at the end of this book. The character had run her course and there was nothing left for her to contribute as a living breathing person.
Like I said at the beginning, I denied it. "That's just your subconscious trying to throw in a plot twist to keep you honest," I said to myself. "Something will come along for you to have her do in the next book soon enough." But it didn't. All I kept coming up with were reasons why she had to die at the end of this book.
Then I was genuinely angry with myself for not seeing this coming. I mean, I had an outline and everything.
A little more than a week ago, I kid you not, I prayed for a way to keep her alive and in the storyline after this book. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. No inspiration.
Then the depression set in. You can ask my wife. For a week I moped around. She got really concerned about me.
"Are you sure you don't need an anti-depressant," she asked. "I'm worried about you."
Then yesterday I was inspired to sit and write a short chapter that was more or less a eulogy. It was about 1100 words in length and only one scene.
It was a doctor coming to tell the character's father that she was dead. The death was unexpected, sudden and seemed unnecessary, and it wasn't until the rest of the characters' feelings for her came bubbling up from my subconscious that I finally realized that no death is unnecessary, when we are talking about character-driven fiction, and my character had accomplished more than I had first realized.
I have a couple of additions to make in order to flesh out some things, but I think I ended up making this character's death affect and motivate the others more than her continued life may have.
Can anyone here tell me. Do you grieve when characters you love meet an untimely demise and your literary muse can't seem to do anything about it? Does anyone else feel this close to their creations?
One of my central characters, one that I dearly loved was going to have to die at the end of this book. The character had run her course and there was nothing left for her to contribute as a living breathing person.
Like I said at the beginning, I denied it. "That's just your subconscious trying to throw in a plot twist to keep you honest," I said to myself. "Something will come along for you to have her do in the next book soon enough." But it didn't. All I kept coming up with were reasons why she had to die at the end of this book.
Then I was genuinely angry with myself for not seeing this coming. I mean, I had an outline and everything.
A little more than a week ago, I kid you not, I prayed for a way to keep her alive and in the storyline after this book. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. No inspiration.
Then the depression set in. You can ask my wife. For a week I moped around. She got really concerned about me.
"Are you sure you don't need an anti-depressant," she asked. "I'm worried about you."
Then yesterday I was inspired to sit and write a short chapter that was more or less a eulogy. It was about 1100 words in length and only one scene.
It was a doctor coming to tell the character's father that she was dead. The death was unexpected, sudden and seemed unnecessary, and it wasn't until the rest of the characters' feelings for her came bubbling up from my subconscious that I finally realized that no death is unnecessary, when we are talking about character-driven fiction, and my character had accomplished more than I had first realized.
I have a couple of additions to make in order to flesh out some things, but I think I ended up making this character's death affect and motivate the others more than her continued life may have.
Can anyone here tell me. Do you grieve when characters you love meet an untimely demise and your literary muse can't seem to do anything about it? Does anyone else feel this close to their creations?
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This made my blow soda through my nose. Thanks!
happy-go-lucky self