Can a writer create a hero that isn't good in the sack?
I was just thinking about all the flaws a character can have to make them more accessible, but could our FBI agent who always gets the girl have erectile dysfunction and still win over the reader? Can the hard-boiled detective be a "quick draw" and still inspire passion?
Certainly James Bond could never be written like that, but his entire persona could be considered unrealistic in terms of his accomplishments. Some people like to read about the gratuitous sex between a book's main characters while others prefer to hint at it and let the imagination run wild. I'm willing to bet that imagination never includes clumsy sex with no foreplay.
I would love to see an amazing character that has the world on a platter, can solve every mystery and be handsome, witty and charming and then fail in the bedroom and then have the couple deal with like any normal people would; whether is be by ignoring it, talking about it, or trying again until they get it right. Would the plot come to a screeching halt? Would one spy tell the other, "its alright, it happens to a lot of guys"? Would that ultimately take the reader out of the fantasy?
Women are always sexy and sensual, too. What if you didn't get off that easy (no pun intended) in a book? What if the heroine couldn't dance and their bedroom moves were awkward or they slip off the bed or just do something REAL. I can't speak for the female reader, but I would assume a guy reader wouldn't care as much about how it went in bed as long as they ended up there.
So, can we be left with two extraordinary characters that live in a world of intense intrigue, action, and conflict, who fall in love on the beaches of Frances, meeting by circumstance, each working for separate faction, trying to topple governments and have them fall short of bedroom fireworks? Could Jason Bourne mix up a cyanide pill with a Viagra?
Um, I don't think so.
This blog is about my journey as a writer, being traditionally published and self published. It is about the experiences, the ups and downs, and all the bullshit that comes with life.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Saturday, November 12, 2011
My Take On Penn State
So, I'm a fiction writer. I write thrillers with sinister characters that do really evil deeds. My imagination has to create senarios that are implausibly plausible if that makes sense. One storyline I attempted a long time ago dealt with child pornography and even skirting around the issue, I found it difficult. I couldn't do it and ended up changing it to human trafficking where I take great satisfaction in who gets saved and how the villain gets it in the end (yet to be published).
So, this thing with Penn State comes to light. I'm a big LSU Tiger's fan, which means I'm a fan of all college football and it makes me sick to think football is the reason this was kept quiet. But, I'm not going to make commentary on what's been rehashed in the news hourly for the past week, but there is one thing I keep coming back to.
This Mcqueary is a good sized man. He was a football player. He had a chance to be this kid's hero. He walked into an opportunity that gave him free reign to bust this guy up. If I wrote him as a character, I would really have to develop either a detachment, a cold persona, or some childhood tragedy of his own to make it believable. Is it self preservation? Is it the mighty hand of Penn State football? It's crazy. Get in front of it, practice the HONOR that you preach, take the dent to the program and move forward, knowing you upheld your ideals. What the F????
How do you walk away from what Mcqueary described? I put myself in his place and after I get over how sureal the scene must have been, I run in there, pull the kid away from Sandusky (who will hopefully be in the prison's general population) and proceed to beat the crap out of him. Maybe he gets the better of me, maybe he doesn't. Either way, I kick and punch for every child that has ever been taken advantage of. Do I see myself leaving, distraught, telling my boss and then wiping my hands of it? No, I don't see that.
At least pull out your phone and call the police...at least! The only good that will come from this is that bringing to the public's attention what SHOULD have happened. The next person in this situation may think about handling it differently.
You should have been that boy's hero, Mcqueary. How many chances do we get at that?
So, this thing with Penn State comes to light. I'm a big LSU Tiger's fan, which means I'm a fan of all college football and it makes me sick to think football is the reason this was kept quiet. But, I'm not going to make commentary on what's been rehashed in the news hourly for the past week, but there is one thing I keep coming back to.
This Mcqueary is a good sized man. He was a football player. He had a chance to be this kid's hero. He walked into an opportunity that gave him free reign to bust this guy up. If I wrote him as a character, I would really have to develop either a detachment, a cold persona, or some childhood tragedy of his own to make it believable. Is it self preservation? Is it the mighty hand of Penn State football? It's crazy. Get in front of it, practice the HONOR that you preach, take the dent to the program and move forward, knowing you upheld your ideals. What the F????
How do you walk away from what Mcqueary described? I put myself in his place and after I get over how sureal the scene must have been, I run in there, pull the kid away from Sandusky (who will hopefully be in the prison's general population) and proceed to beat the crap out of him. Maybe he gets the better of me, maybe he doesn't. Either way, I kick and punch for every child that has ever been taken advantage of. Do I see myself leaving, distraught, telling my boss and then wiping my hands of it? No, I don't see that.
At least pull out your phone and call the police...at least! The only good that will come from this is that bringing to the public's attention what SHOULD have happened. The next person in this situation may think about handling it differently.
You should have been that boy's hero, Mcqueary. How many chances do we get at that?
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
A Real Ghost Story
They say many New Orleans residences and buildings are haunted, but its a great place to create spine tingling stories that may or may not be true, but are somehow more believable in that locale. Well, I have my own ghost story (or at least a story that has yet to be explained) and whether people think I've made it up or not, I know it to be true and it still gives me the creeps.
When I was eighteen, I moved into a friend's house after his mother died. We also worked together at a Winn Dixie supermarket, so the arrangement was perfect. His brother lived out of state and he had this small two bedroom to himself, so why not? I ended up having his mother's old room, which not believing in haunted houses, I didn't care.
Things started out great. We were young, partied, and had lots of fun, but through those first few months, the normal "ghostly" things started happening; missing keys, doors being closed or opened, wierd sounds at night. Again, I didn't pay much attention to it; explaining it away.
Then, it happened. My friend left for work at 9 a.m. I was due in at Noon. Before I left, I got the mail and brought it to my room. I remember this like it happened yesterday. I had five envelopes and put them in a stack on the dresser. I got dressed, locked up, and went to work. My friend had a double shift. He did not leave work at all. When my shift was done and he was still there at work, I arrived back and went to my room not expecting to see the five envelopes spread several inches apart in a perfect semi-circle on the bed. I still get goosebumps thinking about it.
His brother was out of state and he had no other family. None of our friends had a key and I know he didn't go back home. There is no other way to explain it. Plus, I knew my friend and knew his reactions. So, was the house haunted? I personally believe so.
When I was eighteen, I moved into a friend's house after his mother died. We also worked together at a Winn Dixie supermarket, so the arrangement was perfect. His brother lived out of state and he had this small two bedroom to himself, so why not? I ended up having his mother's old room, which not believing in haunted houses, I didn't care.
Things started out great. We were young, partied, and had lots of fun, but through those first few months, the normal "ghostly" things started happening; missing keys, doors being closed or opened, wierd sounds at night. Again, I didn't pay much attention to it; explaining it away.
Then, it happened. My friend left for work at 9 a.m. I was due in at Noon. Before I left, I got the mail and brought it to my room. I remember this like it happened yesterday. I had five envelopes and put them in a stack on the dresser. I got dressed, locked up, and went to work. My friend had a double shift. He did not leave work at all. When my shift was done and he was still there at work, I arrived back and went to my room not expecting to see the five envelopes spread several inches apart in a perfect semi-circle on the bed. I still get goosebumps thinking about it.
His brother was out of state and he had no other family. None of our friends had a key and I know he didn't go back home. There is no other way to explain it. Plus, I knew my friend and knew his reactions. So, was the house haunted? I personally believe so.
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